


Broken in Beverly Hills

by knightprowler



Category: Menendez, Menendez Brothers, True Crime - Fandom
Genre: 1980s, Beverly Hills, Brother/Sister Incest, Child Abuse, Erik Menendez - Freeform, F/M, Father/Son Incest, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incest, Lyle Menendez - Freeform, M/M, Menendez - Freeform, Menendez Brothers - Freeform, Nostalgia, Parent/Child Incest, Step-Sibling Incest, Wealth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightprowler/pseuds/knightprowler
Summary: Some families have shameful secrets. Nobody expects them to be lurking under the roof of a Beverly Hills estate.*Partly inspired by the Menendez murders.





	1. Chapter 1

February 16, 1987

Reagan propped her feet up on the outside lunch table and opened her history guide to cram in some extra information for her test the next day. She was almost certain that she would pass, knowing how much of an overachiever she was required to be at Beverly Hills High. She bit her nails like always, the universal sign of a stressed teenage kid.

"That's not good for you, Rae. You know that," Bailey mocked jokingly as he walked out from behind her.

Reagan jumped in her seat and backhanded his shoulder blade, pausing on the excessive nail biting. "Damn, Bailey. Those are some quiet shoes.” 

"Gotta love Chuck Taylors," Bailey smiled cockily. "So," he began again, biting into an apple, "what new tape do you have for me?"

Reagan scrunched her mouth to the side. "Nothing that you'd be interested in." She had always been somewhat of a music snob, always turning her nose up at those who never gave Queen or Depeche Mode a second listen. But to each his own, as Reagan would always say.

"Oh that's right," Bailey mumbled with a mouthful of apple. "You said I wouldn't like that one Elton John album...um...Honk-"

"Honky Château," Reagan finished Bailey's thought with a slight eye roll before looking back down at her novellike study material.

"That's the one. And I liked it. So come on! New tape, please."

Reagan raised her eyebrows and looked back up at him, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. "You know, you'd think that Dad would give you enough money to buy any tapes that you wanted," she said as she flipped the pages. 

Bailey sighed. "Well, Dad cut me off. Not surprisingly."

Reagan chuckled as she wiggled her feet in amusement. "You must've really done it this time, Bay."

"No! I mean...yeah," he said as he hung his head in defeat.

"What?," Reagan tilted her head to the side, not at all surprised that he had done something stupid. Bailey was a brainy kid, but he was still a teenage boy who was capable of making silly decisions without a care in the world. Growing up with wealth, he never seemed to grasp the concept of what a consequence was.

"I crashed the Mercedes...street racing." Bailey kept his head down in slight embarrassment so she couldn’t see his cheeks turn pink. 

"Bailey!," Reagan yelped slightly. Her forehead wrinkled up in clear frustration at how stupid Bailey had acted, but it wasn't surprising to her. That was the O'Neill way.

"Hey, don't judge. At least I'm not fucking guys in the backseat of my Corvette." Bailey furrowed his brows at the statement before inhaling. "You know what I mean!"

Reagan started to laugh so hard that she felt her core tensing up and forming abs. She eventually composed herself to the best of her ability as Bailey sat there, shaking his head at his stepsister's goofy behavior. "You’re such a dipshit,” she giggled.

"I'm very hurt at this point in time. You have hurt my heart," Bailey said as he clutched his chest to feign sadness. "Guess your dipshit brother won't tell you the good news."

Bailey began to walk away in a slow fashion, teasing Reagan's curiosity. "Wait! Hang on a second," she called out and stood quickly from the bench.

"Yes?" Bailey's tone was now whimsical, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Tell me! Please?," Reagan pouted cutely.

He strode back casually with his hands behind his back. "Well, only because you asked nicely. So...I just got done talking to Coach Rosen and he said that he saw you practicing with me the other day, batting and pitching. He wants you to try out for the JV team," Bailey sighed with a little chuckle.

Reagan's eyes went wide with surprise. "Get the fuck out!"

"I'm serious! Tryouts are in a few days. Are you up for it?"

"Well, uh...I don't see why not! I mean, the girls might miss me if I made it onto the boys team. Holy crap, I’ve always wanted this more than anything!," she pondered a bit excitedly, hating the fact that she had to leave her girls behind to join the boys.

"This could be huge for you. Scouts are coming to watch," Bailey squeezed her shoulders in excitement.

"I don't know about that. I'm only a junior!," Reagan exclaimed with her wide, green eyes.

"A very talented junior at that," Bailey winked and lightly tapped her arm with his fist as she had done to him before.

Reagan wasn't sure why, but at that moment, she blushed a little bit at the words that her stepbrother gave her. "Anyway, I need to get back to studying for this test."

"That's fine. I'm headed to lunch with the guys so I'll see you." And with that, Bailey turned to walk away, putting his hands in his letterman jacket.

"Um...wait!," Reagan blurted out.

Bailey turned again, sighing in slight annoyance. "Yeah?"

"The, uh...the tape. You wanted to know. The Smiths."

Bailey nodded. "I know."

Reagan cocked her head to one side, like a curious dog.

He began again. "I went into your room to borrow it the other day. I just wanted an excuse to come bother you," he smirked, flashing his perfect dimples. 

Reagan pushed her hair behind her ear and looked down with a sweet smile.

"See you, Rae," Bailey waved.

She copied the motion with a little smirk. "Right back at you, Bay."

***

Reagan was speeding through the streets in her yellow 1968 Corvette and into the gated neighborhood where she had lived for nine years. Speeding wasn't the best idea in this area, seeing as it was disturbing the peace. But she didn't care. Her excitement overpowered her rational judgement.

The car came to a slow speed as she saw her two brothers sitting on the porch and talking. The Corvette pulled into the rounded driveway, and the gate closed behind her. She was so excited to see her older brother that she could barely contain her squeals.

The tall, blonde man strolled over to Reagan as she slammed her car door. "Rae...how's my little partner?"

"Dax!" Reagan jumped up to hug her brother, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I'm so glad to see you! Bailey's been annoying the hell out of me for weeks."

"It's what I'm here for," Bailey smirked.

Reagan kissed Dax' cheek and jumped down. "You like the car?"

"Yeah," Dax nodded as he put his hands on his hips. "It's very...you."

"I agree. Very me and very original," Reagan giggled and turned to stare at it in pure amazement.

"But not your color. I mean, maybe black...or red?," Dax shrugged, clearly not knowing that her favorite color was yellow.

"What are you talking about? I love yellow!," she furrowed her brows slightly. "Anyway, I have a test to study for. Dax, we'll throw the ball around later."

"Sounds good, Rae. Always a pleasure," he smiled brightly and gave her a forehead kiss.

Reagan grabbed her book bag and skipped happily into the house through the Mediterranean style doors. She ran upstairs and emptied the contents of her bag, picking out her history textbook and notes.

As she started to go skim through her notes to double check that everything was still stuck in her head, the faint sounds of shouting downstairs were keeping Reagan from concentrating. She recognized her dad's voice, and he sounded angry. But knowing him, "angry" would be an understatement.

Reagan got up and started pacing, biting her nails in the process. "Please, God. Please don't let him..." And before she could finish her plea, she realized that the shouting had stopped and it was silent now. Eerily quiet.

Her mother had been away on a movie set for the day and wouldn't be back until late that evening, meaning it would be the perfect time for Reagan's stepfather to take out his anger however he wanted.

And then, there it was. A faint knock on the door. "Reagan?"

Reagan ran her fingers through her hair. "...Yeah, I'm here," she said shakily and quickly went to sit down at her desk.

"Can I come in?," he asked calmly.

"S-sure," she mumbled and gripped her pencil tight in her hand.

Jack opened the door gently. "How's the studying going?"

"It's going. I don't have much left to review," Reagan chuckled weakly as she looked down at her notes, feeling Jack's somewhat hollow eyes looking down on her.

"Big test?," he cleared his throat and gripped the edge of the desk as he leaned over to see what she was working on.

"Oh yeah, for sure. It's a major grade," she said in almost a whisper and kept her eyes down nervously.

"Well I'm glad you take your classes seriously. You know what happens when you fail a test, right?," he asked gently as he brushed Reagan's golden locks off of her shoulder.

Reagan blinked and could sense what was about to take place. "Y-yes, Dad."

"What happens?," he whispered near the shell of her ear.

"You'll punish me to make me remember," she swallowed thickly and tipped her head to the side to move away from Jack's advances.

"That's right. But only because I love you."

"I love you too," she mumbled shakily.

Jack put a hand on Reagan's upper thigh, which slowly traveled up under her skirt. "Dad, please no...," Reagan quietly begged as she pushed away Jack's hand, but that only made him more adamant.

Reagan began to whine softly. "Stop! I need to study!" And with that, Jack pulled Reagan out of the chair and bent her over the desk, her textbook and notes falling to the floor as he did so. Her skirt was rid up so high, exposing her underwear.

Jack began unzipping his pants as he looked her over with a mix of anger and lust. "Don't fight it. It will only make things worse," he growled, his hand holding her down lightly while the other pulled out his cock.

Reagan was always a fighter in her own way, but she'd struggled quite a bit to keep Jack from pulling down her underwear. She used her feet to kick his legs away, but they were too strong. Her arms tried to get a good grip on his abdomen behind her, but ultimately, it was no use as he soon pinned down her arms next to her head.

Jack had a strength that overpowered Reagan's immensely, and she was a bit ashamed of that. All those years of summer strength training camps and for what? No strength. Only bruises in the shapes of hand prints all over her fragile skin, showing that it was a clear indication that she could not best him. Reagan could not win, and it frightened her to her very core. 

There was a swift swipe of her underwear down to her ankles before Jack pushed his member into her with force.

Reagan was pinned down and unable to scream for help. The boys were outside and her mother wasn't home, so she was left to endure the pain of how big he was. Reagan could only look away into the distance and let out a hushed sob. 

One, two, three, four, five...

Reagan counted to herself until it was over. The experience was not only painful emotionally, but also physically. Jack had always thrust so quickly into her, that the tissue tore slightly and she was forced to lie to a doctor about what had happened. It would always be the same two excuses; something about riding a bicycle or having sex that was too rough. The latter was the most accurate conclusion.

A couple of minutes went by—even though it had felt like an eternity to Reagan—before Jack was ready to come. He pushed her skirt up more as his semen lightly dripped onto her butt. She sighed sadly as the fluid hit her, and she cringed at the temperature.

Jack composed himself and zipped his pants back up. "Dinner will here in ten minutes."

Reagan nodded with wide eyes as she looked away, the trauma almost always too much to recover from. But somehow, she got up for school everyday and pretended that she hadn't been dying inside since the age of nine. 

After Jack had left the room, Reagan began to cry again. This time, it was more audible. "That's the second time this year," she whimpered softly into her hands before picking up the contents of her backpack that had fallen from the desk.

Bailey had been sitting in his bedroom, thin walls and all, and heard everything. He had especially heard what she said to herself. "This year?"


	2. Chapter 2

Knowing what went on in the room next to him, Bailey was sure that dinner would be awkward—for him, at least. He's the only one in the house that knew what was happening with Reagan, as far as he knew, and he intended for it to stay that way. 

He wanted to tell someone—anyone—but he thought he wouldn't be believed. Bailey knew that it would be a hit or miss if he tried to tell his stepmother, and Dax would just fly off the handle and do something rash. So he kept to himself, knowing that holding a secret that huge would cause him a lot of pain later on down the road. But he did it for Reagan and her humility. 

Bailey was suddenly snapped out of a blank stare with a black baseball mitt hitting his chest. It was Dax, encouraging a game of catch. "Let's practice. You have tryouts in a week."

Bailey smiled brightly before darting out to the large backyard with Dax, positioning themselves several feet away. 

Dax threw the first pitch, and initiated a random conversation. "So, how's that girlfriend of yours? Leila?" 

And just as he said that, Bailey spotted Reagan sauntering outside to watch their techniques. A sweet smile flashed across her face as she saw her two brothers bonding through baseball, as they had since they were small children. 

It threw him so off guard that the baseball hit him in his brow bone. "Fuck!," Bailey whaled, throwing his hand up to his eyebrow. "Motherfucker, that hurts!"

"Oh my god, Bay!," Reagan shouted. She ran over to her brother and looked at his eyebrow, noticing instant discoloration and a small cut. He winced when she grazed her thumb over the wound. "You guys are so fucking dumb, I swear. You especially," Reagan pointed at Dax.

"We just got caught off guard. No big deal," Bailey assured her, smiling halfheartedly.

"At least let me get you some ice," Reagan insisted.

Bailey nodded and looked her face over one last time before Reagan pranced gracefully back into the house.

"You didn't answer my question, man," Dax reminded him.

Bailey sighed heavily and dropped his shoulders. "Um, yeah. The best six months of my life," he chuckled weakly before he picked up right where they left off.

But Bailey knew, deep down, that it was her that was the one. He just couldn't admit it to anyone, especially to a person like his brother. It was his ultimate denial.

***

Later on that evening, Jack, Dax, Bailey, and Reagan all sat down to enjoy a hearty meal of sushi. "Gross," Dax murmured.

"Yeah, don't we usually get pizza?," Bailey whined.

Reagan rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever had sushi? It's really delicious," she praised, picking up a piece of yellowtail between two chopsticks and popping it into her mouth.

Bailey feigned vomiting and dropped his chopsticks at the sight.

"Come on, try it!" Reagan begged.

Bailey sighed and gave in to her request. He hesitated before slowly putting a California roll in his mouth, chewing in discomfort. 

Reagan propped her chin under the palm of her hand, watching her brother take in the raw fish, rice, and seaweed. He went from disgust to joy, all in the span of ten seconds. "Not bad."

She burst out laughing. "That's it?! Your facial expressions say otherwise. Looks like you were trying to take a shit."

In that instant, a fist came slamming down on the table. Not to their shock, it was Jack. "I will not have that language at this table. Is that clear?," he growled as his blue eyes now looked darker.

Reagan nodded in shock and looked down at her lap. It was normal for Jack to have outbursts at the dinner table, but luckily it was never when he and Grace were hosting guests. He couldn't let anyone know how dysfunctional the household really was.

Jack took a bite of sushi, talking with his mouth full. "Besides, that's not how a lady should be talking."

Reagan laughed. "You're one to talk."

Dax and Bailey looked down in secondhand embarrassment, cringing at her remark.

Jack put his chopsticks down. "The fuck did you just say?"

"I mean-that's not what I meant. I'm sorry." Reagan hung her head in shame. She knew she'd be getting severely punished at some point. 

"That's strike one," Jack exclaimed blankly.

Bailey quickly changed the subject, and the tone, of the dinner conversation. "Well, Dad, you might be pretty proud and excited for Reagan after I tell you what I'm about to tell you. So I was talking to the coach, and he saw me and Reagan playing the other day. He wants her to try out for the JV team! Isn't that cool? "

Dax and Bailey congratulated Reagan, but Jack was quick to shoot down her plans. "That's a lot of testosterone for one girl to handle at one time, don't you think?," Jack said without emotion, and continued eating like it was a valid point. He was clearly a very sexist man, and believed that women played softball for a reason. His ideas weren't usually in favor with his stepdaughter's activities.

Reagan began to feel her heart beating rapidly, as well as her hands shaking. Her anxiety was taking over, and she didn't know how to handle it without causing a scene. She just breathed, smiled sadly, and began calmly again. "Well, I grew up with two brothers. Maybe that kind of helps me to adapt. Don't you think, Dad?"

Jack just shrugged. "Maybe so, sweetheart. Just all that attention from guys might give people the wrong idea."

Bailey cut in, his eyes never leaving his father's face. "Dad."

Reagan's eyes began to well up with tears. She muttered a "fuck you" in a low tone that nobody could hear as she jumped out of her chair and ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her. She rushed over to her bed, crashing into it and grabbing a pillow to sob into. At that point, Reagan didn't know what to do but cry until she couldn't form tears anymore. She was so distraught that her dad couldn't even congratulate her on something that was really important to her.

And then, there was a knock on the door, followed by a comforting voice. "Rae?"

Reagan raised her head from the pillow, wiping away tears. "Bailey, go away."

"Please?," he mumbled sadly.

Reagan sniffled through a dead silence.

"Come in," Reagan granted.

Both of the boys walked in, ready to give hugs. Reagan sat up and adjusted herself, ready for her brothers to comfort her. They knelt down and her left arm wrapped around Dax, while her right arm gripped Bailey. 

"Dad's an asshole," Dax muttered, kissing his sister's forehead.

Bailey nodded in agreement, making eye contact with Reagan. "Uh, Dax? Do you think you could leave me and her alone for a minute?"

Dax looked at Bailey, confused as to why he couldn't stay.

"I just want to talk to her alone,' he muttered lowly to Dax, patting his back lightly.

"Okay. I'll just go help Dad with the dishes I guess. Good night Rae," Dax said softly, pulling Reagan in for a tight hug once more. 

She nodded with a little smile. As Dax stood up from his spot, Reagan's head plopped back down onto the pillow as she sniffled.

Bailey just smiled. "You'll be fine. It's just in his nature to be a dickhead to everyone. Even me."

"Are you sure he isn't just drunk?" Reagan giggled as she wiped away the halfway dried tears on her cheeks.

Bailey cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Come on. It's Dad. He must be drunk in the morning, noon, and night," he chuckled as he leaned one of knees onto the edge of the bed.

Reagan laughed, already forgetting why she was crying in the first place. "You do that alot."

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better." Reagan raised a hand to Bailey's face, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. His face nuzzled into her touch as she took in the structure of his face. Nearly the quality of a marble statue, but with some cherubic hints.

Bailey smiled, running a hand through Reagan's golden tresses. "Hey, that's not my job! I'm supposed to be bothering you every second of the day!," Bailey joked. "Now, you need to get some rest. Big exam tomorrow, remember?"

Reagan nodded and hid her face in the pillow cutely.

Bailey got up from off of his knees, swiftly walking off before Reagan called out, "Um, Bay?" Bailey turned and raised his brows, biting his bottom lip.

"Can you stay with me tonight? Please?," Reagan pleaded.

Bailey had a feeling that he knew why she wanted him to, and thought on it for a second. If it keeps Dad away, he thought.

"Of course," Bailey said. "Just lemme go change?"

Reagan nodded. As Bailey left the room, she decided that she would change into her sleep clothes as well, seeing as sleeping in a skirt and off shoulder blouse would be a bit uncomfortable. She opted for an old Bon Jovi concert shirt and floral drawstring shorts.

As Reagan was changing, Bailey had come back quickly in his plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. The door was cracked open quite far, so he could see Reagan changing—something that Bailey hadn't intended to happen, but was sort of contented that he did. He watched as she slowly pulled the blouse off over her head, revealing her back. He never realized how skinny she had been, as it was easy to see her spine peaking through her soft honey skin. She pulled on the oversized t-shirt over her head and let it drape down over her back, disguising her fragile figure.

Reagan unzipped her skirt from behind, letting it slip down her legs and kicked it off into the empty corner. "Definitely need to wash that," she muttered to herself. She then shimmied into a pair of shorts, falling just two inches below her butt.

Bailey finally knocked on the door, pretending that he saw nothing. "Hey," he said softly.

Reagan jumped. "You scared me. H-how long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here," Bailey lied.

She nodded. "Well come on then."

Bailey made his way over to the bed, lying on top of the quilt on the side closest to the wall and putting a hand under his pillow. Reagan followed, pulling back the covers on her side.

"Remember when we use to take naps together as kids?," Bailey said, looking over at the back of Reagan's head.

"Yeah. It was nice," Reagan said lazily and smiled to herself, not moving her head. "I was afraid sometimes."

"Of what?," Bailey furrowed his brows, remembering how she was fearless as a child.

Reagan hesitated to answer, and finally did in a tired tone. "The dark."

"Wait, but you were never afraid of-" His observation was cut off by soft snoring. He just rubbed his eyes in annoyance and turned his body to face hers. "Sleep well, Kinsley."

And with that, he kissed Reagan on the cheek and pulled the quilt over his shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was slightly better for Reagan, the best that it could be. She had two things to look forward to: a history exam that she was sure to pass with flying colors, and a date with one of Bailey's football buddies, who was taking her to see "From The Hip" at the drive-in. She was always a fan of courtroom dramas, a byproduct of growing up with a celebrity lawyer for a father.

It was definitely a new and better day filled with opportunity for growth. Reagan wanted to get her mind off of the horrific act that happened the night before, but at the same time, she thought maybe it was justified. 

I just have to learn that failure isn't an option, she thought.

Reagan gently pried Bailey's hand off of her hip—which had somehow draped over her at some point in the night—and slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Bailey as he slept peacefully. She pulled off her pajamas and walked over to her bathroom and turned on the shower faucet. She waited for it to warm up and hopped in, wetting her hair and grabbing some soap. She lathered up the liquid in her hand and began to wash her body, frantically scrubbing her ass where her dad had ejaculated on her. 

It took her all but five minutes to get completely clean before she turned off the faucet and dabbed her skin with the nearby towel. As she stepped out, Reagan noticed that Bailey wasn't in her bed anymore.

She shrugged it off and continued to dry her body, grabbing a comb and running it through her dripping and tangled blonde locks. The outfit picked out was hanging on her closet door and she slipped into her Calvin Klein underwear before doing so.

That day, she was sporting a maroon long sleeve button down blouse, a white tank top, and a pair of high waisted Levi's that she had stone washed herself. It looked perfect with her new white Keds, which she grabbed and ran downstairs to make it to family breakfast.

Rushing down, Reagan noticed a woman at the stove cooking bacon. "Mom!"

"Good morning! Coffee?," Grace exclaimed, kissing Reagan's cheek.

Reagan nodded and took the mug from her mom's hands. "Thanks," she took a sip and smiled. "Hazelnut and cinnamon. My favorite!"

"Are you hungry? I'm making turkey bacon and peanut butter toast," Grace smiled brightly as she held up her spatula proudly.

"Sounds good," Reagan nodded. "I'm gonna need it. Big test today."

Grace pet Reagan's wet hair . "You'll do great, darling."

"I hope," Reagan gulped, biting her nails.

"Oh honey, don't do that. That's bad for you," Grace mumbled, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Bailey said that yesterday too," she grumbled. Reagan was always easily irritated by people judging what she did, including her family. It seemed as if all of the negative attention was focused on her, and never Bailey or Dax. 

"Then you should listen to him more often," Grace encouraged with a little smirk.

Speaking of the boy in question, Bailey stumbled his way down the stairs, curious about their conversation. "Listen to who more often?"

Grace smiled. "You. I'm gone for a whole day on location, and Reagan is already beginning bad habits."

Reagan rolled her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't bothered by the attention before biting into a piece of toast. "How's the movie going?," she said while chewing.

"Beautiful! We were filming in Vegas and the colorful lights were overwhelming," Grace smiled softly. "I do hope you can come with me to one of my locations someday, honey. I think you'd love it. You're into all of that photography stuff."

Reagan smiled widely. "Oh my God, that would be so fun!"

"I'm going on location in July, if you'd like to come. It would be great if you could experience other places before you start college," Grace spoke gently and rubbed her shoulder.

Bailey tapped Reagan on the shoulder, eating a piece of bacon. "We should get going."

"Actually Steve is coming by to pick me up." Just as she said that, a car horn honked a bit obnoxiously. "Speak of the devil."

"I'll give you the details when I get them," Grace confirmed.

Reagan nodded excitedly and threw away her half-eaten toast. "Do you need a ride, Bailey?"

"Would be, I dunno, a courtesy," Bailey said sarcastically. He grabbed his backpack that was hanging from his chair. "Man, I'd do anything to get my car back. Or a new one," Bailey shook his head and walked out the door with Reagan.

Little did Bailey know, his father had heard him say that. Jack would give him the opportunity to get his car privileges back, but it wouldn't be the most pleasant.

***

The top was down on Steve's Jaguar as they pulled into Beverly Hills High. "Body Talk" by Kix was blasting on the radio. "You know, this is the best way to dry your hair," Reagan exclaimed, jamming out to the music.

"Ah, yes. All of those bugs flying into your hair. Must be perfect," Bailey teased. Reagan just scowled and he smiled back, bantering with each other the same way as they did since childhood. 

Reagan threw her slightly damp blonde waves into a low ponytail as Steve parked. She reached over to Steve, planting a kiss on his lips. He tasted like spearmint as her tongue swirled around with his.

Bailey made a motion as if he was trying to vomit. "Gross. Come on, you can blow him later," Bailey said, motioning for her to stop. 

Reagan suddenly pulled away and punched Bailey in the shoulder. "Bailey!"

"Well damn, Kinsley! It's true," Bailey shrugged. "Wow you can really pack a punch," he held his shoulder in disbelief.

She smirked with pride before she grabbed her book bag and jumped over the door, landing swiftly. "Well, boys. Wish me luck," Reagan made a thumbs up motion. She whipped around and strode off, spotting her best friend Leila. "Hey there, study buddy."

"Rae! How's it going? Ready for this test?," Leila giggled as she gave Reagan an awkward side hug.

"Fuck no! I crammed as much as I could, but it was a rough night." Her shoulders dropped a little bit in shame.

"Why's that?," Leila furrowed her brows.

"Dax came home from UCLA yesterday and...you know how brothers are," Reagan lied. "They never leave you alone, even for a minute," she laughed weakly, hoping that Leila believed her. In reality, Dax was the best big brother to her and Bailey. He was never a burden. She just wanted to hide the true reason.

"Oh, how's he doing? I haven't seen him since Christmas," Leila tilted her head slightly.

"He's great! Home early for some reason," she shrugged like it was nothing. It probably was, but Dax had the mentality of a frat boy; always involved in some sort of hi-jinks. 

Reagan and Leila walked in silence for a few minutes, brushing past all of the rowdy students either throwing footballs or gossiping about who they saw together at the Cartier store. It was an interesting--and sometimes tedious--life that Reagan Kinsley led. She couldn't imagine living somewhere else in Los Angeles, let alone the world. It was all she ever knew.

Leila spoke again. "Can I ask you something, regarding Bailey?"

Reagan looked over, confused. "What about him?"

She looked back down to sigh heavily. "Bailey and I have been together for nearly two years, but...we have become distant recently," she mumbled quietly so only Reagan could possibly hear.

She didn't quite know how else to react to Leila's confession, except by coming up with possible theories as to why. "I-I'm not sure. Maybe he's dealing with a lot of personal things. He kind of shuts down when I try to talk intimately with him," she chuckled weakly.

"He's got a very unique personality. I still can't figure him out," Leila tsked, completely lost on how she could even get through to her own boyfriend.

She was quite a character to Reagan, but she considered her the only true friend that she had. At Beverly Hills High, it was rare to find anybody real. But Leila was the realest person she knew, besides Bailey.

Reagan laughed and threw her arm around Leila's neck as they walked into the classroom. They took their seats as the bell rang.

"Good morning, class," Mr. Mesa said. "I hope you're all rested and ready for the exam."

Reagan breathed smoothly, taking out a pencil and eraser to be prepared. She looked over at Leila a few seats over, who was looking at the board.

Don't fuck this up. It'll hurt if you do, Reagan thought to herself sadly as she looked down at her test.

***

After school, Reagan was on edge. Her grade determined her dad's actions, or not, and that's what really set her off. She was looking forward to the movie that night, so that took some of the weight off of her shoulders.

Some of the stress was also taken away in that moment as she saw Leila talking to Bailey. She was smiling and chatting him up, and it made Reagan happy that her brother was always smiling around her. 

He looked over at Reagan with a dreamy smile and waved. She waved back at him with an equally sweet smile.

Leila walked over to her car after a deep kiss to Bailey's lips, and he watched her ass move as she walked away. Reagan just scoffed as she walked in Bailey's direction. "You are such a class act, Bailey O'Neill."

His cheeks tinted pink at her comment and he looked down. "What did I do this time?"

"Just have sex with her, Bailey," Reagan chuckled and lightly backhanded his bicep.

"Yeah? And why don't you stop having sex?," he said a bit angrily and hopped in the back of the Jaguar.

Reagan sighed heavily in embarrassment and walked around to get into the passenger side. "Drive," she said bluntly with crossed arms.

Steve nodded at that and quickly backed out of the lot, speeding down South Moreno Drive in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Reagan let her hair down and let it blow in the wind as they raced onto Angelo Drive. "Slow down here, Steve. We have neighbors," Bailey encouraged, still a bit heated from his outburst in the parking lot.

As the car slowed down into the driveway, Reagan and Bailey grabbed their bags and jumped out. "I'll come by at six?" Steve confirmed.

Reagan nodded and planted a kiss on Steve's lips, while leaning over the car door. As Steve backed out of the drive way, she and Bailey strutted up to the house, grabbing the key ring from her front backpack pocket.

"You know that you two are the grossest fucking couple that I've ever seen," Bailey groaned.

"Fuck off, O'Neill," Reagan hissed, clearly angry from how Bailey spoke to her at school. "Hey, are we cool?," he stopped her before she put the key in the hole. Whenever they would fight, usually the sour mood would go away in a hot minute. The petty insults weren't enough to tear their relationship apart, especially the household they grew up in. Affluent, but abusive. Reagan sighed heavily and glanced over at him, a smile slowly growing on her face. "I guess...I can't stay angry at you for the rest of my life," she mumbled before hugging him around his neck. He blushed slightly at that when she went to unlock the front door. 

As Bailey and Reagan entered the house, Dax and Grace were sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and having a deep conversation. They hadn't even realized that Bailey and Reagan had walked in. Grace was never the type of mother to pick favorites, but Dax was barely ever home since he had spent all of his time at UCLA.

"Hey guys," Bailey said, waving his hands in front of them.

Grace was startled and she quickly smacked him on the arm. "Bailey Jude O'Neill!" 

"Sorry, mom. You guys were really into...whatever you were talking about," he chuckled weakly and sat down his backpack on an empty space on the bar.

"Yes, well," Grace began and then sipped on her coffee. "Dax has gotten himself into quite a pickle. You want to tell him then?," she cocked an eyebrow as she glared at her eldest child.

Dax hesitated before nodding. "I, uh...I got a temporary suspension."

Reagan's eyes went wide and put her bag down as well, walking up to him. "What? Why?"

"Hazing," Dax said bluntly before adding, "Six months."

"Hazing? Oh you're going to get it when Dad gets home," Bailey joked.

Reagan looked down, not finding his remark very funny. There was just an emptiness to her face as she remembered the past seven years of rape and beatings.

Grace put her coffee cup down. "Hang on. Nobody is going to get anything inflicted on them. If anything, your dad might be proud of you...in a way," she raised her brows in disappointment at Dax. 

"This family, I swear...," Reagan trailed off before running upstairs and Bailey soon followed.

"Hey, why are they always up each other's asses? ...I think they're in love with each other," Dax laughed.

Grace rolled her eyes. "Don't be absurd."

Meanwhile, Reagan emptied the contents of her bookbag to pull out a brightly colored folder that held her report card. She pulled it out and looked at it, praying that her grades were spot on. 

English III, Trigonometry, Biology...

Her finger trailed over to the US History section, and seeing the score made her heart drop. "I got a fucking B plus!," she looked over at Bailey, distraught.

"But that's good...right?," he furrowed his brows in confusion and stood up to look closely at the report. Bailey had always averaged as more of a B student, and he was okay with it. Apparently Jack was too, seeing as how he never punished Bailey for getting such a grade.

"Well it's a B, but it was supposed to be an A!," she whimpered lightly as she threw the paper to the wood floors.

"Look, I'm sure Dad will understand," Bailey said assuredly. He immediately realized what he had said and sighed. Reagan wasn't supposed to know that Bailey knew.

Reagan shook her head in confusion. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"I didn't-! It was-!," Bailey stuttered quite frantically before sighing heavily. "Why was I born with a mouth?"

"It's not funny, Bay. What were you saying about Dad?," she crossed her arms expectantly.

Bailey hesitated. "That um..." He could feel the sweat lightly beading up at his forehead as he tried to answer as carefully as he could. 

Reagan waited patiently, her foot tapping lightly.

"Uh, I..."

"Do you know something?," she raised an eyebrow at him and stepped forward, taking a firm hold onto his collar. 

"Know something? I, uh...," Bailey gulped nervously as he looked her face over again. The jelly feeling he got in his knees when she was so close had suddenly come back to haunt him, even when she stood before him in vexation. 

"Stop pussyfooting around and just answer the fucking question, please," Reagan calmly begged as the grip on Bailey's shirt tightened enough to create wrinkles.

"Okay, okay. Um, yesterday evening, when you were in your room, I heard Dad. He was, um...," he sighed sadly and felt his eyes sting a little bit. Bailey could still hear faint sounds of crying after the act, and Reagan's admission that it hadn't been the first time that his father had done something like that. 

"You...you know," she whispered sadly as tears began to pool up in her eyes. Her grip loosened and she stepped back. 

"Rae...," Bailey began, stepping closer to Reagan and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What could you have done?," Reagan sniffled with tears falling down her cheeks. "Nobody would believe me. Everybody loves Dad and-"

"Well, first," Bailey placed his hands on Reagan's cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I would've told you that you're too beautiful to be crying this much. It'd ruin your reputation!," he laughed.

I am an ugly cryer," Reagan giggled. "What next?"

"Well I'd put on a record for you. Elton John."

"Or Springsteen," Reagan pointed out.

Bailey nodded and smiled, still holding Reagan's face in his hands. "Or Springsteen." For some reason he wanted to, at that moment, kiss her lips. It was the strangest thing. His sister.

But he didn't. Instead, he kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. The same thing he always did to comfort a distraught Reagan, which was becoming far more common now than ever. 

Reagan savored the embrace before pulling back. "I need to get ready for my date," she mumbled and scurried over to her closet, filled with a mix of designer and retail brands. 

"Hey, Reagan?" Bailey said gently as he placed the record on the turntable.

"Hm?" Reagan raised her brows and poked her head out from where she was changing.

"I'll keep your secret safe," he whispered and forced a weak smile at a clearly broken Reagan.

Reagan smiled a little bit at him and nodded at his kind gestures. It was nice to have a brother that could joke and tease her most of the time, but sweet and sincere when she was clearly breaking apart at the seams. "Thank you. You're so good to me, Bay."

Bailey smiled and looked down, got up from his spot and strode quietly out the door. When he was a good distance away from her bedroom, he sighed to himself. "Fucking hell, Bailey...," he whispered harshly to himself as he walked back to his own room.

As "Born to Run" began to play loudly on the speakers, Reagan picked out a black mini skirt and a plaid long sleeve button down. She changed into those and tucked in the plaid blouse, situating it to puff out slightly. She grabbed a pair of black boots from her closet floor and then a pair of sheer black stockings that went a few inches over the knees. Before she forgot, she remembered to put her papers and other school supplies back in the book bag, as well as take the needle off of the record.

She grabbed her purse and denim jacket from the hanger on the door and headed out of her room. 

As Reagan stepped down the stairs, she caught the attention of her mom and brother. "Well, don't you look lovely!," Grace exclaimed.

Reagan became bashful at the words and looked down at her feet. "Oh...stop!," she whined. "I'm just going to the movies."

"What're you seeing anyway?," Dax asked as he looked over her outfit.

"From the Hip. The new Judd Nelson film," Reagan bit her lip. 

"I heard about that film. The reviews were a bit mixed, but Judd is such a nice guy. Met him at a premiere party in Santa Monica in 1985 and—," Grace had began rambling about her illustrious career as a makeup artist, but Reagan and her brothers had heard all of her stories before. Her success wasn't anything new or shocking to them, but it was half of the reason that they resided in a seven million dollar mansion. There weren't any complaints about it, that's for sure. 

"Mom, I hate to cut you off but...you told me that story already!," she giggled. "Steve should be here soon." 

"Steve Marin? Oh honey let me give you some cash," Grace said, grabbing her purse nearby and rummaging through her black leather Gucci wallet. Finally she found a wrinkly $10 bill and handed it over to Reagan, placed between her index and middle fingers. "Here's a Hamilton for your troubles," Grace smiled.

"Mom, Steve is paying for everything," she furrowed her brows in suspicion. 

"Oh honey," Grace put her hand to Reagan's shoulder and caressed it. "No, he isn't. I've met him, and I've met his parents. He's sweet and all, but he doesn't know a thing about chivalry or responsibility."

Reagan waved her away. "He knows plenty. Maybe you should educate Bailey about that good old chivalry and responsibility!," she laughed.

"I heard that!," Bailey shouted in the distance. She only scoffed at that.

"Oh, do I also need to remind everyone that he crashed the Mercedes when he was street racing?," Reagan grumbled and sniffed sarcastically at the faint scent of sexism in the air.

Grace just sipped on her coffee as her eyes darted from side to side. "Boys will be boys, Rae."

"Ha!," Bailey laughed in the distance. "Mom likes me more!"

"Shut the fuck up, Bailey!," she shouted back at him in a mix of anger and amusement. 

Sometimes, things weren't always good in the Kinsley-O'Neill family home. There was a lot of torment and abuse, and Reagan was clearly aware of that. But she wanted to put that off to the side for one moment in her life and just have a normal night. She wanted to pretend that her stepfather was not, in fact, raping her. She wanted to be imperfect for just a few hours and face what was to come later on. She realized that the banter between her and her siblings was the highlight. It never got any better than this in her Beverly Hills life.

After spending about thirty minutes chatting with her mom and brother, Steve's Jaguar honked faintly.

Reagan grabbed her jacket and bag from the counter top. "Finally!"

"Hey Reagan?" Grace walked up to Reagan.

"Yup?," Reagan said with raised brows.

"When you get home, Dax and I will be out to dinner most likely. And your dad is working late at the office so it'll be just you and Bailey. Will you be okay?"

"Of course, Mom," Reagan assured her. "I gotta go. Love you, have fun!" And with that, Reagan turned to walk out the door, making a peace sign in the air as she left.

Dax started again. "I'm still pretty sure that Bailey is in love with Rae."

Grace glared at Dax. "You're delusional."

***

8:30 PM

Bailey sat on his bed flipping through a magazine, bored out of his mind. It was a Friday night and he'd usually be out with his buddies at a party or racing cars through the streets of East Los Angeles—a mistake he was sure to never make again if he ever wanted a new car.

But tonight was just him and him alone, and naturally he hated being cooped up while his friends were doing God-knows-what.

There was a sudden sound that came from downstairs, and Bailey didn't think anyone would be home that early. He had known that Dax and Grace were out to dinner, Reagan was at the movies, and Jack was working late at the office. He stood up, tense. He walked over to the door and listened for more noise, and there it was. Keys and briefcase were thrown on the counter and then seconds later, ice plopped into a glass.

Dad, he thought. At least he wasn't alone and bored anymore. Bailey relaxed and walked back over to his bed, resting on his side as he flipped through the magazine once more.

It was quiet again momentarily, until he heard a knock on the door. "Bailey? Hey kiddo?," Jack said outside the door in a muffled tone.

Bailey closed the magazine. "Yeah I'm here. Come in."

Jack came in and sat at the foot of the bed. "How was school today, sport?"

Bailey's face lit up. "Same old, same old. Had a few tests but nothing new," he shrugged as the brightly colored cars caught Bailey's attention. 

"Something on your mind, kid?," Jack chuckled and pat Bailey firmly on his back. "Actually, um...yeah," Bailey sighed in shame as he set down the magazine. "So, I haven't been able to take out Leila for awhile because of my...accident." "Mhm," Jack nodded and continued to sip on his drink. "What are you asking for exactly?" "Well, to put it bluntly, I want a new car. No. I need it," he mumbled a bit but hoped that his father would understand and move past the Mercedes incident. Jack thought on the proposition for a moment before standing up. "You know what? Yeah. Of course I'll get you a new car," he smiled. "But I need you to do something for me, son. A fair exchange."

"What do you mean?," he tilted his head.

Jack set his drink down on the desk next to Bailey's bed. "Well...," he unzipped his pants.

Bailey's heart began to race at how quickly the conversation had escalated to that point. "Dad, I..."

Jack used a great amount of strength as Bailey tried to pull away but it did him no good. "Stop!," Bailey pleaded.

Finally, after much force, Bailey's mouth landed on his father's member and he began to massage him. He had tears rolling down his face as he did so but his Dad wouldn't let up. The tears were a mixture of sadness, but also the force on his gag reflex as it plunged down his throat. 

Bailey made a combination of movements, from jerking off his member to wrapping his mouth around it and going all the way down—something that pleased Jack in the most sadistic way imaginable.

The massage lasted for six minutes, but it felt like an agonizing hour. When Jack made the signal that he was ready to cum, Bailey quickly tried to pull away but he felt his dad's hand of the back of his head. His father's load released into his mouth and Bailey let out a muffled whine.

He rose up and tried to spit it out but his Dad grabbed onto him. "No...," he commanded. "Swallow."

Bailey began to sob with the fluid still sitting on his tongue. "The car," his father reminded him. 

With much hesitation, Bailey swallowed his father's cum and shuddered at the texture of it. 

"Good boy." Jack patted him on the shoulder before he zipped his pants back up, grabbed the drink, and looked back at Bailey before he left the room. "What model?"

Bailey hesitated before answering. "Uh, I guess the, uh...the new Ferrari?"

"Blue?," he smirked while swirling the drink around in its crystal glass. He nodded sadly and wiped his mouth in disgust at the taste of his father's member. 

"You got it, kiddo. And hey...I love you son," he flashed his son a charming smile, the same smile that he gave to everyone that he laid eyes on. That was Jack O'Neill's way of luring unsuspecting people into his toxic web, and he was always successful. One look of his pearly white teeth, and suddenly, all is forgiven. 

As he left the room, Bailey plopped down onto his bed again and put his head in his hands, sobbing. "Fuck!," he whispered in a yell to himself before looking up at the family photo on his wall. His eyes focused on Reagan's smile and how perfect she looked in her floral dress that day.

Bailey was snapped out of his gazing of his beautiful stepsister as he heard somebody's keys fall into the tray by the door. "Hello? Bailey, I'm home!," Reagan's voice called from downstairs.

Bailey was always taught that what his dad had done was purely out of love and nothing more, according to his own father. He figured that now was the time to start believing it.


	5. Chapter 5

One week later.

Bailey and Reagan made their way to the bleachers, grabbing a water bottle and gulping the water with desperation. It was the final day of baseball tryouts, and the results would be posted soon enough. "Nice cleats," Bailey gestured to the black Nikes with yellow Swooshes on Reagan's feet. "Didn't notice them before."

"Thanks! They're custom. Mom bought them for me," Reagan clarified with a large grin smeared across her face.

"I wish I got cool gifts like that," Bailey said, looking down and remembering his most recent and shameful gift that he had received a week ago.

I love you son. The words of his father echoed in Bailey's head, clouding his thoughts momentarily. He furrowed his brows at the memory and hung his head to hide the stinging feeling in his eyes.

Was it an act of love? A father son bond?

"Hey," a muffled voice said. "Bay?," the voice repeated.

Bailey snapped out of the trance and looked up. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?," Reagan said as she looked into Bailey's eyes and caressed his bicep.

Bailey just stared back at her with a somewhat amazed expression, just completely in awe of her beauty. "Um...y-yeah. Sorry."

Reagan smiled at him and turned around, grabbing a towel from her duffel bag and patting it against her face and neck. Bailey did the same. "I'm so nervous. I hope I did well," Reagan said with moderate anxiety, refraining from biting her nails as she had usually done. Her brothers had assured her that she wouldn't fail the tryouts, knowing how talented she was and how well she had played with the neighborhood boys growing up.

"Of course you will. The coach knew you'd do well!," Bailey smirked and gently patted her back, feeling her spine as he did so. His brows furrowed at the unbelievable feeling of her spine poking out so far, but he ignored it. It was probably nothing, Bailey pondered.

Before long, a balding, middle-aged man with a Thermos in his hand came strutting down the field. "Good afternoon men! And uh...woman," the man smiled in embarrassment and cleared his throat. "Now where is my captain?"

"Right here, Coach," a tall, raven haired boy raised his hand.

"Good. Get up here!" The boy jogged up to Coach Rosen. "This is my star pupil, Will Thompson. My treasure. And as I said, your captain."

Reagan noticed that Will had begun to express a sense of shyness, and she couldn't help but smile at not only the coach's words, but Will's face. It was a sense of purity, and she found beauty in that.

"He will lead you to playoffs. He will get you to where you want to go! Scouts will be there! I promise," Coach Rosen preached. "And, might I add, my trusted captain here will aid me in picking who will be apart of my dream team. The JV team of 1987 is the team to not be beat!"

Will patted Coach Rosen on the back and took a few steps forward to address the group. "Thanks, Coach. And thank you all for coming out. These past few days have been so tiring for you, and I appreciate those of you who have made it through and given your blood, sweat, and tears," he smiled as he momentarily glanced over at Reagan, his warm brown eyes catching her lively green irises filled with hope. Bailey caught onto this and felt a small amount of envy punch him in the gut. 

Will started to glance around again at every other guy who was trying out."The list has been posted on the communication board in the locker room. Thank y-," he tried to finish before he was cut off by panting and sweaty boys running off to the locker room. "Well that was productive," Will chuckled, scratching his head.

Bailey and Reagan were the only ones left standing there, as well as the coach and Will Thompson, who were having some sort of sidebar.

"Bay, I'm scared. Should I go first? Or you? Or me? Or-" Reagan was cut off by Bailey's hand covering her mouth.

"Shut up and go look for your name on that damn list," Bailey smirked.

Reagan darted into the building, the sweat somewhat drying on her forehead from the cool air conditioning. She ran as fast as she could to the boys locker room to check the list. As she made her way inside, she made sure there weren't any guys undressing or showering, and realized she was safe as she peeked in ever so slightly. Boys were crowding a cork board, either cheering or hanging their heads in disappointment. She hoped that she'd do the former.

As Reagan made her way over—palms sweating and heart racing—the boys suddenly made a path for her. She ran her finger along the sheet of paper to find her name. 

REAGAN KINSLEY. 

There it was, in all caps and bold lettering. Reagan let a out a high-pitched squeal and ran out of the locker room without a word to the other boys, her cleats clicking on the linoleum in the hallway.

She made her way back onto the field and made sudden eye contact with Bailey, smiling. "I made it," she mouthed to him.

Bailey smiled and was caught off guard with her running and jumping into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his torso and squeezed tightly, as she did with her arms. "Congrats, Kinsley," Bailey said softly.

Reagan froze for a moment and smiled at him with a dreamy gaze, lightly running her fingers through his curly mane. "Thanks for believing in me, Bay," she said gently.

Bailey blushed a bit at how she played with his hair and the way she spoke so softly to him, but he tried to pretend that he wasn't completely entranced by it. Luckily he was good at suppressing specific emotions when he was around.

Reagan had jumped down and rid her uniform of all of its wrinkles. "Do you already know? You know, if you..." Reagan began to walk and Bailey followed.

"Yeah, I did. They want me to be co-captain," he shrugged like it was an clear and obvious choice.

"Bay, that's fantastic!," he smiled brightly at him.

"So, Steve and I are gonna hang out later tomorrow and drink some beer. Maybe play the Sega. Are you coming with us?"

Reagan rolled her eyes at the mention of Steve's name. "Yeah. Right."

Bailey put an arm out in front of Reagan, stopping her from walking any further. "What?"

Reagan pushed Bailey's arm away and kept walking to the Corvette. "Nothing."

"No, no, no. You always say that when something bad happens," Bailey tilted his head. Clearly something had happened between Reagan and Steve in the span of a week, but she wasn't really one to speak about the nitty-gritty details to her stepbrother, regardless of how close they'd been.

"I do not," Reagan crossed her arms in slight annoyance at the observation. "Clearly you don't know me as well as you thought."

Bailey just stared at Reagan, not believing a word she was saying. Whatever was going on between her and Steve was their business, but usually Reagan never kept secrets from Bailey and vice versa.

As the two were about to argue, Will Thompson called out to them. "Hey, wait up!," he ran up and sighed softly once he stopped.

"Hey, Will! Glad to be working with you, man," Bailey smiled.

"Likewise," Will held his hand out and Bailey shook it. "And, you know my sister Reagan."

"Also known as Rae," Reagan joked. 

Will smiled brightly at the sound of her name and took her hand to firmly shake as well. "We're glad to have you, Reagan."

Reagan tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and grinned cutely. "Thanks. So we'll see you at practice?"

"You bet," Will started to walk backwards as he said his last words to them for the day. "See you around, Bailey. And it was good meeting you, Reagan," he said gently as he jogged back to speak with the coach.

Her heart raced as he said those words and butterflies formed in her stomach. Bailey just rolled his eyes. "Please don't fall in love with him. I get it, I get it. He's dreamy but...please," he sighed heavily.

Reagan laughed. "It's nice to know that you think he's dreamy!"

Bailey gave Reagan a look of frustration at that.

"Don't be like that. You're still my number one," Reagan smiked as she lightly pushed him. He just responded by pulling her into a side hug before hopping into the Corvette.

"So, where to? Home or...literally anywhere else?"

"Home, definitely. We gotta tell everybody the good news!," Reagan said in a giddy fashion.

Bailey smiled at her. "Home it is." 

They backed out of the ghost town of a parking lot before speeding down the street, blasting Def Leppard on the stereo to an overwhelming high.

***

At home, Dax was reading a magazine, Grace was boiling some hot water for a cup of tea, and Jack was reading the Business section of the Los Angeles Times. The front doors suddenly burst open and not surprisingly, everyone jumped where they were at. "Jesus Christ, kids!," Grace clutched her chest.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, Mom! But we've got good news," Reagan cheered as she held her dirty cleats in her hands.

"Great news!," Bailey emphasized greatly. "We, uh...we made it onto the team!," he said without hesitation.

Grace and Dax stopped what they were doing and either hugged or shook hands in congratulations. "Isn't that great, honey? The baseball team!," Grace said, hoping that she would get a reaction from Jack. He just kept reading the newspaper.

"Dad," Bailey said firmly as his fist lightly balled up.

Jack just looked up. "Sorry, I was just finishing the, uh...column. Congrats, kids," he forced a smile as he stood up.

When Jack wasn't looking, Bailey just scowled and shook his head at his father's behavior. He couldn't believe that his dad would treat him and Reagan this way, especially since he had wanted his son to play baseball religiously, like Jack had done in high school himself.

"Hey, why don't we celebrate? Spago is always expecting us!," Grace exclaimed. She wanted to ease the tension that she knew was there between Bailey and Jack, and in a way, including Reagan as well. 

Reagan put on a brave face and chimed in. "I love Spago! Sounds great," she said, glaring at Bailey and hoping he'd stop. She gripped his bicep tightly, and it caused him to break his menacing look and his fist to release. "We'll go freshen up and be down in a bit!," Reagan nodded. And with that, Reagan and Bailey went upstairs to their respective bedrooms and changed out of their athletic clothing.

Reagan went to her bedroom to slab some deodorant on her armpits and grabbed an expensive perfume—something French that was hardly easy to pronounce—and sprayed her pulse points delicately. She decided that her Dutch braided locks weren't too messy and left them as they were.

She pranced over to her closet and scanned through her many designer brands before deciding on a red crushed velvet dress, black pantyhose, and a pair of glossy black heels. She nodded at her slender figure in the mirror in satisfaction.

Bailey had decided on combing through his curly mane to get out any knots, sprayed on a designer cologne, and added some Old Spice deodorant to his armpits, smelling them and shrugging. Good enough, he thought.

Bailey decided that his choice of wardrobe would be a white button down shirt with a gray Ralph Lauren crew neck sweater layered on top, black slacks, and a pair of black loafers. 

As he walked out the door, he caught Reagan walking out of hers. She looked him up and down, smiling. "You clean up good, O'Neill," she said as she walked up to Bailey, adjusting his collar. "Your brow is healing up nicely too," Reagan noticed as she she ran her thumb ever so gently over the small cut on the tail of his eyebrow.

Bailey gulped at the feeling of her touching him and being twelve inches away from her lips, which again, he had the urge to kiss desperately. He shook the thought out of his head and tried to play dumb. "It's weird dressing like this, isn't it? The fancy sweaters and loafers."

"We've lived in Beverly Hills for virtually all our lives," Reagan laughed slightly. "Are you not used to it by now?"

"Well we don't go to dinner a lot." And it was the truth. With Grace's work schedule, Jack didn't feel the need to have dinner out. Ordering in or having one of the kids cook a meal was the norm. 

"Kids! Are you ready?," Grace called from downstairs.

"Yep!," Bailey shouted in response and the two made their way downstairs. 

Jack just looked at Reagan in what was a mixture of disgust and craving. "Why are you wearing that?"

Reagan just froze, eyes widened. "What's...wrong with it?"

"That dress is too short. You don't want to look cheap, do you?," Jack raised an eyebrow.

Reagan just shuddered in place, and Bailey noticed this. Since he knew what was going on, he knew that Reagan had been judged by Jack on her performance in school and now her appearance. It was chilling to Bailey how his father could be this way towards her.

"Oh Jack! This is how girls her age dress!," Grace tried to convince her husband with a nervous chuckle. "She looks nice. That shade of red is lovely on her," she complimented, which earned a smile from Reagan.

Jack just raised his hands in surrender, distracting away from his suspicious behavior. "I don't know anything about fashion."

"Obviously. I catch you wearing Armani to court a lot," Grace teased before kissing his cheek.

"Hey! Only when it's the day of opening statements," Jack verified with a little smirk back at his lovely wife.

Dax pushed everyone along out the door. They split up into different cars, with Dax, Grace, and Jack taking the BMW, and Bailey and Reagan taking the Corvette.

***

The family got much attention at Spago, mainly Grace, from a waiter who was obviously a fan of her work. "I loved the makeup that you did on Heather Locklear in Dynasty. Absolutely stunning!"

"Thank you, darling," Grace said humbly with a sweet smile.

As the waiter set the plates down in front of everybody and left, Bailey brought up the topic of baseball again. Hopefully the tension had settled so they could discuss it and receive a proper congratulations. "So...Coach Rosen sees me as a strong pitcher."

"That's great, honey," Grace said with compassion. "What about you, Reagan?"

"Batting! The coach said that I could crack open a ball with the amount of force I use. Which is good! I think he said something about me being a shortstop, which works because I'm poor at pitching," she shrugged as her fork stabbed into a piece of ravioli.

"Wow! Fantastic!," Grace smiled sweetly. "Jack, isn't that great?"

Jack was cutting into his steak. "Reagan, I still haven't heard about your midterm grade."

Reagan's mouth opened to say something, but she closed it as soon as she realized that they were in public and didn't want to say the wrong thing and cause a scene. she thought about it and began. "Well, it takes awhile for the grades to come out usually. But I will find out soon enough," she spoke a bit shakily as her shoulders dropped.

Jack nodded and stuck a piece of steak into his mouth, glaring over at her. Bailey watched him in sheer repugnance as he did this, not sure why she would being getting all of the heat and not his own self.

Realizing that it was twenty minutes into the family dinner and there was already failure in the conversation, Reagan just smiled and got up out of her chair. "I'm going to, um-," Reagan began but choked on her words and walked out of Spago, heartbroken. She couldn't understand why Jack wouldn't just be happy for her.

Bailey got up and threw his napkin down. "Real nice, Dad." He quickly followed Reagan and caught her before she could get too far. "Rae, wait!"

Reagan turned around, glassy eyed.

Bailey hesitated before letting out a sigh. "Do you...do you want to go somewhere?"

Reagan thought a moment before nodding. "Yeah," she said with raspiness, walking over to the Corvette and getting in. Bailey did the same and looked over at Reagan, thinking about how sweet she was. She couldn't seem to please their dad, and he could see that was tearing her apart.

"Just down that road there, keep going for about 15 minutes, and make a right." Reagan had let Bailey drive the car, following her instructions with no questions asked on where they were headed.

One silent car ride came and went, and they arrived at a cemetery before long. Bailey was confused, and he could tell from Reagan's demeanor that she was visiting someone that meant a great deal to her. "I want you to meet someone."

They exited the car and Bailey stood close to her. "Take my hand," she instructed and Bailey did so gladly. It was a short walk to the grave, and with it being slightly dark, it was hard to tell where anything was. But Reagan knew the place all too well. 

They finally stopped at a grave and Reagan squeezed Bailey's hand. She was nervous, but she wasn't sure why. "Bailey, this is my dad. Dad, this is my stepbrother Bailey."

The tombstone had read:

Charles Kinsley  
1947-1978  
Beloved son and father

Bailey smiled and wasn't sure what to do. He waved at the grave and Reagan just laughed. "I...I like to come out here a lot when I feel like I can't-" She couldn't finish what she wanted to say as her tears cut her off.

He remained silent as Reagan plopped down in front of the grave. "He got sick after he came home from Vietnam. I was just born, and Mom was beside herself. Dad...ended up getting cancer. They said it was one of the chemicals that they used in the jungle...," she mumbled slightly before wiping away a small tear.

"I never knew."

"She doesn't talk about him a lot. She was heartbroken when he... Dax was ten I think, and I was eight. But I can remember him so well."

"What was he like?," Bailey sat down beside her, not taking his eyes off of her as she began to fawn over how incredible her birth father was.

"Oh wow. He was...so funny. And devoted to his family. And he loved music...I remember him singing Love Me Tender when-," Reagan began to choke on her tears and it was apparent that she couldn't continue on talking about him, in fear that she wouldn't be able to stop crying. "God I miss him so much, Bay."

Bailey wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she hesitated before clutching onto his hand for dear life. "Thank you for bringing me here," she whispered and kissed his cheek softly before gripping his hand tighter as she looked down at the tombstone.

Bailey wasn't usually one to show his emotions in front of other people, but to him, Reagan wasn't other people. He felt a tear roll down the same cheek and he quickly wiped it away on his sweater.

"I love you, Kinsley," Bailey said softly. But deep down, he knew that it was more than just sibling love. 

Reagan just smiled and closed her eyes at the words, sitting in sweet silence in the graveyard for the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

March 18, 1987

As weeks passed by, there was some hope for Reagan. She hadn't experienced any of the usual sex that her dad had forcably commenced, and that made her optimistic. She was also on the junior varsity baseball team, which made herself and many people happy—not Jack of course, but she put it out of her mind and played the game she loved so much. And what's more, it was the game that her birth father played, and he would have been proud to see her playing on a team like that.

Bailey and Reagan weren't due home for another hour, since they usually hung out with friends after practice if there wasn't any homework. Dax was out with some friends, and knowing him, he had no intention on coming home early if he didn't need to. This gave Jack a chance to be sneaky and peak through his kids possessions. He had no shred of humility, and he knew this. But he didn't care or believe in the idea of an invasion of privacy.

Jack had somehow gotten it in his head that his entire family was keeping secrets from him, and if his suspicions were right, all hell would break loose for sure if he found damning evidence. He opened the door to Bailey's room and noticed immediately that there were records out of their covers and dirty clothes hanging off of the edge of his bed and his desk chair. But more noticeably, paintbrushes sitting in murky water, as well as an easel with a painting that was halfway finished. It had been a project for his advanced art class in which he had to mimic the likeness of a famous landscape, and he had chosen Picasso's Paysage. He looked around, noticing artwork of the same type of themes that he'd never seen before. 

Jack would come into his room a lot when he was there, and he never saw a shred of art supplies anywhere. It was a strange sight, and he got worked up to the point that he started moving the supplies out of Bailey's bedroom and hiding them in his own. Jack didn't like the fact that his son took up a different interest than the one that he had originally had in mind for him. And even more so, he wasn't happy that Bailey hid it from him.

Jack moved onto Reagan's bedroom. Her living space was fairly clean, but makeup products and perfume bottles were strewn about her vanity table. His eyes scanned over to a desk where Reagan routinely did her schoolwork, and saw a stack of papers. He walked over and flipped through the papers before landing on a page showing Reagan's midterm exam grades. There was a flood of anger that overcame Jack when he saw her US History grade, an anger that made him throw the papers in the air. They fell to the ground like confetti as Jack left the room, storming down the stairs and into the den to fix himself a ginger Cognac. 

He sat on the sectional sofa in silence for a few minutes before a car pulled up. He heard Bailey and Reagan's voices from the front door as they unlocked it and walked in, laughing about something silly. "And so Leila was so pissed that-oh," Reagan stopped when she saw Jack sitting there. "Dad, hi."

"Reagan. Bailey. Good of you to come home. I was hoping we could talk," he scowled and took another swig of his drink.

Bailey raised his eyebrow in confusion. "About?"

"Why don't you head to your rooms, freshen up, and then we can discuss what we need to discuss." It wasn't a question, but more like a subtle demand.

Reagan and Bailey did so with a puzzled look on their faces, and when they got to their rooms, they couldn't believe their eyes. The sight was horrific.

"What the actual fuck!," Reagan shouted. 

"Shit. Where's all of my art supplies?" Bailey shouted in the same tone. 

As they both stepped out of our rooms, they ran down the staircase. Their faces were a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "What the hell happened?," Bailey exclaimed. "My room has been ransacked!"

Jack sipped on his drink nonchalantly. "Oh, I know. I did that."

Bailey's hands balled up into fists. "You-," he cut off, shocked. "Why?"

"Why? Why!?," Jack said, enraged at his son's ridiculous question. "You're painting!"

"So what? It's for a class that I'm taking!," he groaned.

"No, Bailey! Your focus is on baseball. Baseball!" Jack sighed, set his drink down, and began again. "When boys do art, it makes them look like...faggots. And no son of mine is going to look like a fag! You best believe me when I tell you that. Why can't you be more like Dax?"

Bailey just looked down in disappointment and shook his head. He couldn't fathom why his father was under the assumption that art was only for boys. And not surprisingly, he was upset that his own father was comparing him to Dax. After all, Bailey hadn't gotten suspended from school for hazing or any other horrendous crime.

"And you. You fucking lying little- you kept your test scores from me, didn't you?," Jack gritted his teeth and grabbed Reagan's bicep, squeezing it so hard that she yelped in pain. "Didn't you?!"

Reagan began to tear up and nodded. "I'm sorry, I was-"

Jack just waved his hand at her, causing her to stop talking. "I taught you better than getting a goddamn B!," Jack raised his voice. "Oh God, don't start crying. Don't you fucking start!"

Reagan tried to hold back her tears as best she could. "What's wrong with a B, Dad?"

Jack laughed sarcastically. "I'm sorry but I didn't raise you to be a failure! I raised you to be a success. You want to go to Stanford? You want to be a lawyer like your old man?"

Reagan hesitated before nodding. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't want to be a lawyer. She wanted to do something close to her mom's line of work, or even get drafted into the MLB as the first female baseball player. The possibilities were limitless, and she knew that. She just didn't know how to break free of Jack's controlling nature, and she was worried that she never would.

"Then start paying more attention in class, instead of opening your legs for that Steve Marin boy!"

Bailey cut in, now enraged at his father's words. "Dad!"

Reagan looked up with teary eyes. She raised a hand up to Jack, intending on hitting him, but he caught her wrist before doing so. The grip was tight and just as painful as the previous grip on her bicep was. She was angry at that point, blinking away tears. "I broke up with Steve weeks ago! And I never let him get in the way of my schoolwork. I'm smarter than that!"

Jack furrowed his brows. "Stop raising your voice at me!" He took Reagan by the bicep again and dragged her away. "You need to learn from right and wrong." 

Reagan was choking on tears. "Daddy, please..."

She watched Bailey's pitiful face as Jack dragged her up the stairs. Reagan tried holding onto the staircase railing to stop him, but she wasn't strong enough. As Jack opened the bedroom door, he let go of his menacing hold on her. "I told you what would happen if you failed."

Reagan had tears streaming down her face at this point, and there was an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "Please, please! I'm so-"

Her pleas were cut off as Jack delivered a sudden blow to her left cheekbone, which sent her to the floor with a loud thud. He pulled her up by the shirt and threw her against the wall before flouncing over to her to deliver a closed fist to her stomach. "I don't want to have to do this Reagan, but you leave me no choice."

Reagan began to cry loudly now, almost resembling a scream, and it was loud enough for even Bailey to hear downstairs. Jack pulled his belt off through the loops of his pants and folded it in half to prepare to beat her. When he delivered the first few whips to her kneecaps, she buckled and fell down onto them as she winced. He continued whipping her in other places such as her back and occasionally her face, which earned him a few groans, which kept getting quieter and quieter. She felt as if she were a race horse, being constantly whipped and trained to behave for a flawless performance. 

It came to a stop and Reagan was relieved momentarily. "I don't think you've still quite learned your lesson," he smirked in an evil way. Reagan caught this and her eyes were now fearful.

One, two, three..., Reagan began to count in her head. She stared blankly at a photo of her and the rest of the family on the wall. It crushed her to know that the little girl in the picture was her, and that she would later see how dysfunctional her life would become. 

"Maybe you'll listen next time, for your own sake," Jack growled and finally stopped the beatings. Her cheekbone would probably be badly bruised in no time at all, as well as her kneecaps which were severely sensitive and difficult to sit up on.

Jack eventually left the room to go scold Bailey about his habits, and probably wouldn't receive the same type of punishment. Even if he did, she knew it would be less severe. 

She walked over and grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet, wet it under the sink, and dabbed the light drops of blood. She stared into the mirror at the red mark on her cheek with exhaustion, wondering how in the world she ended up where she was. Rich families weren't supposed to have issues. It was supposed to be living with never ending wealth, taking vacations to the Hamptons in the spring, and having parents who work in Hollywood. 

That's how television portrayed it, anyway. From Reagan's perspective, there were never ending cheating scandals, pill-popping housewives, and of course, criminal level abuse. It wasn't supposed to be like that, but life wasn't a television show.

As Reagan finished cleaning up her face and added some base to her cheek to hide the redness, there was a knock at her door. "Come in," she instructed.

The door opened and not surprisingly, it was Bailey. "Hey...," he said, looking at her face. "Did he-"

"Yeah," Reagan quickly answered. "He did."

Reagan turned to face Bailey, who put his hand up under her chin to turn her head to the side. She flinched and lightly pushed away his hand. "Hey...come on."

Her immediate response was to nuzzle into his chest for brotherly comfort, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "Was there something you wanted?," Reagan said in a muffled tone.

"Yeah, um...Will is on the phone," he shrugged with furrowed brows.

"Will Thompson?"

"What other Will do you know?," Bailey chuckled.

"I know three other Wills, and two are from Calabasas," Reagan bragged.

Bailey rolled his eyes in disbelief. "I hate Calabasas. A bunch of lowlifes."

"You're so picky, Bay. But anyway, I have a cute guy waiting to talk to me," Reagan smiled. 

"Okay, okay," Bailey said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'm going to Leila's for dinner so I'll see you later on tonight." Bailey kissed Reagan on the forehead and held it there for a second before he made his way downstairs and out the door.

Reagan was left to answer the phone, which she immediately rushed downstairs to pick up before Will could decide to hang up. "Um...hello?"

"Hey," Will answered gently.

"H-How did you get my number?," Reagan scratched her head.

"Your friend Leila."

"Leila? But how does she-" Reagan had been confused at this point, until she remembered. Leila was known around the school as a matchmaker, and she knew about their breakup so she wasn't surprised that Leila would be up to something like this.

"Yeah. And I thought you were kinda cute. And we see each other a lot out on the field, so I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go out sometime?," Will asked with a small sliver of hope in his voice.

Reagan thought on it for a moment. "Well, I don't know," she said as she twisted the phone cord between her fingers. "I just broke up with Steve."

"Yeah I remember," he chuckled.

Reagan raised her brow. "You've got me stumped for sure. I...I think you're cute too," she smiled. 

But then she had a startling realization; Will was the captain of the baseball team. Going out with him and playing on the team might not work, at least in her mind. She wasn't one to care what people thought, but she knew that people might think that she was with him to keep her spot on the team or receive special treatment. But Reagan didn't want to overthink it too much, so she put it out of her head.

"Yeah!," Reagan yelled, cupping her mouth in embarrassment. "I-I mean, sounds great."

"Cool, cool," Will laughed slightly. "I'll see you around, Reagan."

"Wait!," Reagan shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

"Hm," Will thought. "I'll have to get back to you on that one. But I've got some ideas...," Will teased. Reagan's response was just her smiling to herself and holding back from making an excited noise.

They said their goodbyes and hung up the phone, and she let out a girly squeal. It wasn't something she'd usually let slip from her mouth. Luckily no one had been around to hear that.


	7. Chapter 7

March 23, 1987

Days had passed without Reagan hearing back from Will and the decision to go on their date, and she was becoming worried. Not only it had been over a week, but she hadn't gotten a phone call at home from him for some time. Reagan was a girl who could overthink things very quickly, and she wouldn't let anyone, not even her siblings, know that she was insecure about boys being interested in her.

But on the other hand, Reagan also had a sense of being headstrong and independent. She knew that if Will had decided to cancel or just wanted to be friends, she'd be okay. She knew that everything would be content and she could enjoy baseball, school, and time with her brothers.

It was a Friday afternoon, and school had just let out, so Reagan had decided that instead of heading straight back to the mansion, she'd take a little detour. There wasn't much of any dirty, beaten paths near Beverly Hills, so it was somewhat of an adventure.

The top was down on the Corvette, the wind tangling Reagan's golden hair, and an Elton John tape blasted on the stereo to a high that would cancel out any other noise. Sometimes it was just nice to let go of the pressures of school and family, and pretend like nothing else mattered. For her, the majority of her life involved putting on a brave face to please the public.

It took some time, but before she knew it, Reagan had ended up on Mulholland Highway. She took in the heat of the sun and let it beam down on her cheeks. The sky was a deeper blue than she'd ever seen before, and she loved how it resembled the waters on Malibu Beach, a place that she frequently spent her summer vacations at. The school year was nearly over, and she couldn't wait to feel this same exact way again.

The mindless daydreaming about the Calabasas scenery caused Reagan to lose focus, and more importantly, lose control of the steering wheel. It all happened in a flash. Swerving from one side to the other, Reagan's brows began to furrow as she felt panic overcome her. A few car horns honked in the distance, signalling to her that she was incompetent. 

Reagan jammed on the brakes and it caused the top half of her body to jolt forward. Her only reaction was to pant heavily in shock. "Fuck! Holy shit...," she whispered harshly, slamming her palms on the steering wheel. She was usually a focused driver, and it made her frustrated that she could even lose control like she did on place like Mulholland.

She quickly parked the car and got out, checking for any damage. There weren't any signs of damage at first—the dust from the road had slightly clouded the air and made it tough to see much—but then she spotted it like a sore thumb. The left rear tire had been deflated.

All Reagan could think to do was run her fingers through her hair and whine in frustration. There wasn't much she could do but sit and wait for a car passing by on the highway to drive her to the nearest gas station with a payphone, so that's what she did. 

She hopped over the door and into the front seat, situating her body so she was sitting up straight, and reached over to the glove compartment. Inside was her favorite novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and she grabbed it and began to delve deep into the pages as she waited.

Reagan dog-eared the page she was reading and checked her watch. It was a quarter until five o'clock, and that made her all the more tense. At least fifteen minutes had passed since the accident, and nobody stopped to check and see if she needed help. She understood why, though. It was a Friday night and people wanted to get home from work or school, especially in a place like Calabasas where the night life was always thriving. But then again, that was the downside of living in Calabasas—there was a lack of decent people.

Reagan went back to the page she was on and made it to the third chapter before she heard tires pull up, and from the sound of it, they were behind Reagan's car. She set her open book down on the passenger seat and turned around slightly. There was a glare on the car, so she couldn't see who was it was.

As the person got out and walked up, Reagan situated her appearance to look presentable. She wasn't sure why she needed to do this, seeing as she was always appropriately dressed. 

Reagan's mouth dropped open as she saw him. "Will?"

"Reagan! What are you-," Will was cut off as he scratched his head.

"I was...taking in the scenery?" It was the truth, but Reagan made it sound as if she'd done something worse. 

"Uh huh. Right," Will nodded with a weak chuckle, not believing her. "And is the scenery helping you out in this situation?"

Reagan smirked at Will's cocky statement, shaking her head at his question and at his humor. She could tell at that time, that he was definitely someone who liked to use jokes as a point of conversation. "Not really. But I'm reading a good book."

Will looked over at the passenger seat at the book and turned his head to the side to read the print. "Dorian Gray. Good novel." He looked back over at Reagan, impressed by her choice of literature. "You don't seem like the reading type."

Reagan laughed, not sure if it was an insult. "What do I seem like, then?"

Will put his hands in his pockets, not breaking eye contact. "I can't figure that out yet. Maybe a cup of coffee will help me to decide," he winked. Reagan grinned at the proposition and her eyebrows raised, deciding it wasn't a completely terrible idea.

"Well maybe, but what about my car? I don't have a spare tire."

Will snapped his fingers. "I've got you covered." He walked off, leaving Reagan sitting in her car in a confused state. She quickly got out and followed Will back, putting her hands on her hips. She watched him reach into the car and pulled out an off-white block shape from the passenger side.

"What is that?," Reagan crossed her arms.

"Oh my God. Really? Have you never heard of a car phone? Everyone has one," Will shook his head.

"Clearly not everyone," Reagan said in a comical tone. "Phones are meant for the home."

"Wouldn't seem that way in this case, would it?" Will was now inches away from Reagan's face, keeping his eyes locked with hers. She felt herself getting hot in her cheeks and her heart was racing. 

He broke the serious tone by saying, "Let's get you a tow truck for your car and-"

"No! No tow trucks please! My dad will find out and he'll...well, he won't be happy, let's put it that way." Reagan was trying—and failing—to not be exactly like Bailey in regards to the Mercedes incident. She wanted for once to not be a total screw-up.

Will raised an eyebrow at that statement but nodded. "You've got a flat."

"Isn't there another way I can get a spare? It'll get back to my dad and the car is registered in his name."

Will looked at Reagan blankly, only blinking once before giving into her request. "Alright, alright. Tell you what? I know a guy. I'll call him out here and I'll ask him to get a spare for your little...lemon meringue car," he joked, referring to the yellow body and whitewall tires.

"Hey!," Reagan put her hands on her hips sternly. "I'll have you know that this 'little lemon meringue car' cost my dad $53,000, thank you very much."

Will just scoffed at the snobby statement she made and waited a moment before speaking again. "I'll make sure that he gets you a whitewall," he mumbled.

Reagan nodded. "Um, can I make one tiny little phone call?," she pleaded politely.

***

Bailey was frantically pressing buttons on the Sega Genesis controller, attempting to beat his high score and Leila's as well. He lost focus the moment the telephone rang in the den. He threw the controller down in frustration and stood up. "You've got to be f- wow! Wow!" He ran his hand through his brunette curls, letting the phone ring nonstop.

"Babe," Leila said gently. "Get the phone."

Bailey nodded and put his hands on his hips, still showing physical frustration. He walked out of the room and towards the den, taking a deep breath before picking up the telephone. "...Hello?"

"Bay, it's Reagan."

"Hey. W-what's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. I'm glad that you answered. I need you to do me a favor."

"Of course. Anything."

"I got a flat tire on Mulholland Highway and-"

"What're you doing on Mulholland Highway?"

Reagan stammered before she could get an answer out. "N-not important. Point is, I got a flat and I need you to not tell Dad. Please."

"I think he's going to find out once he sees that it's dark and your car isn't in the driveway."

"I've got it covered...so far."

"Meaning?"

"Well, Will Thompson happened to see me and helped me. He's got a phone so I was able to make a call and I decided to call you," Reagan smiled but it quickly dropped when she realized the predicament she was in. "So...please?"

Bailey sighed. He hated to lie, but if it kept Reagan safe from their dad's wrath, he'd do it with ease. "Okay, okay. I'll just say you went to Brook's house or something, I dunno."

"Thank you, thank you! You're my hero! Talk to you later Bay," Reagan said softly and hung up the phone.

Bailey swiftly dropped the phone from his ear and caught it, hanging it up on the stand.

Leila walked into the den and wrapped her arms around Bailey's waist. "Who was it?"

They stood in silence. Bailey was contemplating how he could lie for Reagan without their dad finding out. It wasn't possible. It was bound to backfire.


	8. Chapter 8

6:30 PM

After some time, Will's mechanic friend reached the side of Mulholland Highway and brought the whitewall spare tire for the Corvette. It was a short wait, which Reagan was thankful for. Anything to get home and pretend that she didn't do something irresponsible.

Will helped his friend out by taking off the hubcap and loosening the lug nuts. Next, they placed a jack under the car to help raise it. It would've been a good idea for Reagan to watch and learn in case this type of thing ever happened again, but she was disinterested in the vehicle maintenance. She went over to the hood of Will's car, book in hand, and leaned against it as her index finger trailed across the pages.

His head shot over in Reagan's direction, and gave her what was almost a snarky glare. "You sure you don't wanna watch? Could benefit you the next time."

Reagan looked up from her book and rolled her eyes with a cynical smile. "Next time? I don't think so." She went back to reading her book, mumbled something to herself about how ridiculous his statement was.

Will got up from his spot and walked over to Reagan, snatching the book from her hands. "Hey!," she exclaimed, reaching out for the book but it was too far above Will's head. He stood at six foot, while Reagan was an inadequate five feet five inches, so she was powerless against him. "Give it back." He shook his head and smiled menacingly at her. 

"Will! Give it back!" Reagan's frustration caused her to stomp her foot, just as a kid had done if they wanted a toy but didn't get their way. Will looked at her with raised brows, amused that she was acting this way. "Okay, okay. Please give me my book back."

"Only if you make me a promise-scratch that! Two promises."

Reagan rolled her eyes and shifted her weight onto her right foot, clearly annoyed. "Where are you going with this, cowboy?"

"Well for one, you need to watch and learn how to change this tire. It's crucial. This could happen again and I don't want you to be at the mercy of some weird guy." Reagan's demeanor changed as she heard that, and it made her think that for once in her life, she met a guy who really cared for her safety. Steve Marin had been a good boyfriend to her for the time that they were together, but he was somewhat of a happy go lucky type of guy and never seemed to understand that there were other dangerous areas of Los Angeles. He never felt the need to worry about her being in danger in Beverly Hills.

"And two," Will continued, "Our date. We talked about it but you never got back to me."

"Wrong!," Reagan shot back, returning to her annoyed stature. "You told me that you'd get back to me and its been, like, a week," she crossed her arms in a whimsical way, hoping for a clever reply.

All Will could think to do was drop his arm, handing the book back to her. "I rest my case, then. I apologize if I've been a bit, um..."

"Flaky? Undependable? I have several words to describe you, Mr. Thompson. Believe me," Reagan said with a sarcastic smile and grabbed the book sternly from his hand.

Will was baffled by her attitude. She was cocky like he was, and he didn't expect to see her like that. "Those...are good words," he laughed in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head. "Look, I don't want to do that again. You're one of a kind. I like that."

Reagan looked down and bit her lip, trying to hide her giddy smile. Will seemed to have a different personality the more you got to know him. He was suave and casual at school and at baseball practice, but outside of school he was somewhat playful and flirtatious. Reagan liked the Will that she was seeing at that moment. She looked to the side and shook her head, contemplating a decision.

Will hung his head a little in disappointment, thinking he really screwed up his chance.

The mechanic stood up and clapped his hands together to get the dirt off his palms. "Alright, hermano! Looks like I'm done. You can pay me when you're able to," he said, shaking Will's hand. "It was nice to meet you, Reagan."

She smiled as he shook her hand firmly. "It was nice to meet you too, um..."

"Alex!," he quickly chimed in. "Alex Medina."

"Medina! That's my mom's maiden name."

"Really?"

"Yes, my grandfather was born and raised in Spain. I don't know a lick of the language though."

Alex nodded in understanding at her statement. "Well hopefully you do someday!" Alex waved at both Reagan and Will as he got back into his truck and drove off.

They were left standing there, not sure what to do or say next. Reagan immediately thought back to their conversation a minute ago and gave Will a composed answer with an audible sigh. "Fine."

Will looked up, his eyebrows raised. He didn't expect her to say yes, given how her demeanor was a few minutes before and how casual he had been about not setting a day for their so called 'date', which was sure to make any girl angry. But Reagan wasn't just any girl. "Wait- what?"

"I said 'fine'. You got time to kill now?," Reagan said straightforwardly. It was a Friday night and she decided that while she was out, why wait? She wasn't one for formalities anyway, so it was perfect timing.

Will smiled. "I've got nothing but time."

"I'm very big on cafes or diners. Do you know any off the top of your head?"

"Well, now that I know that, I'll take you somewhere I know you'll enjoy."

Reagan cocked a brow and a smirk grew across her face to match. Will had now piqued her interest and he was definitely going to make it a nice night.

***

Reagan's Corvette followed Will's old Mustang to a roadside diner just ten minutes outside of Calabasas. She knew not to daydream this time, or any other time, as she'd learned her lesson on what not to do when she was trying to be a responsible teenage girl.

The hanging fairy lights made the establishment look very cozy, which was the kind of atmosphere that Reagan loved. The sign read 'Dana's Diner' and it beamed neon green.

As they stepped out of their respective cars, Will smiled and gestured greatly with his arms extended out. "Ta-da!"

Reagan stood there and bit her lip. "This is...nice."

Will's mouth dropped open in feigned shock. "Just nice? This diner screams Reagan Kinsley!"

"I can see that," Reagan said sarcastically as she walked past Will and patted him on the shoulder. Will was dumbfounded but gladly followed behind her.

The inside was well kempt, with red leather booth seats and wooden tables. The walls had black and white photos of celebrities with their Sharpie signatures in the corners. Reagan looked around and noticed they might've needed to update their decorations, seeing as there were old wanted posters for the Zodiac Killer and the Nightstalker still hanging by thumbtacks on the posts, but she wasn't going to complain too much about it. The diner definitely gave her a 70s type of vibe and it made her giddy just thinking about it. "Well you definitely picked an interesting place," she mumbled to herself.

Reagan picked a booth all the way in the back and strode towards it, sliding into the farthest seat and Will did the same, sitting across from her. "Why did you pick this booth?"

Reagan tapped her fingers rhythmically on the table. "Oh, um...I have a weird thing. This is the seventh booth and-" She looked up and saw the look on Will's face. He was near ready to laugh for sure and she just buried her face into her hands. "I'm really sorry that I'm a freak!," Reagan whined, setting them down flat.

"No! It's really cute actually. Tell me more. I'm intrigued!," Will said as he rested his chin on his right palm while his left hand caressed Reagan's now relaxed hand.

"There's not much to it really. Just...seven is my lucky number." It wasn't relevant information, but it was definitely a way to break the ice on their first date awkwardness.

A young waitress in her early twenties came up to their booth with an order pad and pen in hand, but they hadn't even noticed. They were so lost in each other's company. "Hello, I'm Emilia and I'll be your server. What can I get for you to drink?"

They hadn't responded, and just continued to talk.

Emilia tried asking again. "Excuse me, ma'am? Sir?"

Reagan and Will both looked up in slight embarrassment. "Oh I'm so sorry! We were just so caught up in-" Will's apology was cut off.

"What can I get you to drink?"

Reagan went first. "Oh, uh...I'll take a coffee, please."

"And I'll just take a Coke, please," Will said with a smile.

The waitress Emilia scribbled down a few words before walking away without saying a word. Reagan just let out a huff and looked back at Will. "Well she was pleasant," Reagan said dryly.

Will laughed and then changed the subject. "So," he clapped his hands together, "Wanna talk about trading cars? Because I know you're too irresponsible to be driving around that beautiful thing," he said as pointed out the window at the Corvette.

"And what would I drive? Your Mustang? Please," she rolled her eyes with a smirk.

"What's wrong with it?," Will laughed.

"For one, I drive vintage cars. And two, Mustangs are such a downgrade," Reagan said in what was an almost snobby tone. She continued, "I mean, your parents are rich. Surely they could find you something with quality," she emphasized.

Their drinks finally arrived at the table and Will looked down in disappointment at Reagan's comment, gently sipping his soda through a bendy straw. Reagan caught onto his sudden change in attitude and reached her hand out to Will's.

"Did I say something wrong?" Reagan was concerned.

Will let out a somewhat heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't have the money for a better car, Reagan."

"But your parents are rich...right?" Her head tilted after she'd asked and looked him over, hoping that she was correct in her assessment. 

Will hung his head almost dramatically. "No," he said bluntly. "It was supposed to be a secret...but you seemed to figure me out," he scoffed before sipping on his Coke.

"But you go to Beverly Hills High. How are you not rich?"

"Well uh, my...my coach from my old high school traded me off. I was apparently that good," he said nonchalantly and sipped on his soda some more. "Coach Rosen wanted me to play on the team that badly. And I've been here since last year."

"Wow," Reagan said, baffled. "So if you don't live here, where do you live?"

"Um...East Los Angeles."

"Wait, that's a Chicano neighborhood. Are you...?" Reagan didn't want to insinuate anything due to her being one quarter Spanish and looking as Caucasian as could be, but she could tell by Will's features that he was most likely semi-Hispanic.

Will nodded. "My mom also has Spanish blood. She's from Tijuana. And my dad is white."

"Mine was too," Reagan smiled sadly.

Will smiled back at her and they were silent for a moment as they each stared at their drinks, trying to carefully pick out what words to say next. 

"You might find this interesting, but my dad actually works in Beverly Hills. He was another reason I was able to go to school there," Will smiled weakly as he hoped that would break the tension.

"Oh that's pretty cool! What does he do?" Reagan sipped on her coffee as she listened to Will speak.

"He's the guidance counselor," he chuckled.

Reagan nearly spit up her coffee. "Roger Thompson is your dad? He's so nice to me every time I come and see him."

Will smiled and Reagan grinned widely back at him. She was having a nice Friday night for once, which wasn't something that she could say as often as she'd wanted to. But she was glad to have the time that she did at that moment.

Reagan hoped she could see herself with Will in the near future, and the way things were going, it was looking very likely that that would be possible.

***

9:45 PM

Will followed Reagan back to the mansion after their coffee and Coke date. He could've just parted ways at the restaurant, but he wanted to be respectable and walk Reagan to her door.

Reagan parked first and then Will behind her. They got out of their respective vehicles and Will was in sudden awe of the design of the house. He couldn't believe that an average person could live here. "Your house is...wow," Will gulped.

"Thanks," Reagan smiled. "It's got four bedrooms open so if you ever need a place to stay..."

"It's our first date and you already wanna go to bed? Well if you insist!," Will teased.

Reagan smacked Will's bicep in a playful manner. "Not what I meant!"

They continued to joke around as they walked up to the front door, and then they stood in front of one another. Their eyes were locked onto one another as Reagan began again, this time in a more meaningful tone. "I had a...lovely time," Reagan said softly. "And listen, it doesn't bother me that you're not rich. It's just an interesting change for me," she assured him with a light shrug.

Will batted his eyelashes at her and smiled. "Don't worry about it," he laughed. "I had a good time too." Will put his hand on Reagan's shoulder, caressing it gently with only his thumb.

Reagan was picking up on Will's mood and slowly but gently leaned in. Her heart raced madly as she did so, and her lips just barely grazed his before the door flew open.

Her head whipped to the side to see Jack, his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. "Dad."

"It's time to come inside, Reagan. Say good night to your friend," Jack said with a slight growl.

"Um...good night," Reagan half smiled as she shook his hand awkwardly and shuffled past Jack, who was still standing in the doorway. He scowled at Will as he closed the door.

As Reagan walked up the staircase, Jack stopped her midway up. "So you lied about going to Brook's house." It wasn't a question.

Reagan turned slowly on her heels to give Jack eye contact. "I, um...yes." There was no way to get out of this lie. She was sure that Jack would be fuming and show her any mercy that night.

Jack stood there, not responsive for a few seconds, before nodding and waving his hand away, sighing in frustration. "You kids, I swear... Just go ahead. You're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight," he muttered under his breath and walked off to make himself his usual drink.

Reagan nodded and continued back up the stairs. No yelling or explosive arguments? Strange, she thought. The household was somewhat strict, so an incident like what had just happened was sure to make her stepfather angry, but she didn't want to question it anymore and just accept that he was calm for once.

She was near her room when she decided to pay a visit to Bailey's. She knocked on the door and there was an immediate 'yes' and she was quick to enter. Bailey had his head at the foot of the bed and he had a copy of Playboy in his hands.

Reagan was mildly horrified at his choice of printed entertainment, but he was a teenage boy so it wasn't all that surprising. "Did I come at a bad time?"

Bailey threw the magazine across his room quickly and began to twiddle with his thumbs on top of this stomach. "Nah," he said nonchalantly.

Reagan laughed. "So...I had a good night!"

"With Will?" Bailey said in feigned interest.

Reagan nodded excitedly at the sound of his name. "We went to this diner in Calabasas and it was so lovely. Our first date."

"I'm happy for you," Bailey lied.

"Oh Bay, it was just a Friday like no other! He did walk me to the door, but Dad caught me. Thank you for lying for me. Or attempting to," Reagan half smiled.

Bailey only forced a convincing smile and said nothing.

"So did Leila have fun corrupting you tonight?," Reagan joked.

Bailey sat up and shrugged. "If by corrupting me, you mean totally dominating my high score on After Burner II, then yeah. I'm sure she did," Bailey smiled smugly.

"I'm glad she makes you happy. Well I'm gonna catch some Z's. Love you Bay!" And with that, Reagan skipped out of Bailey's room in sheer excitement.

Bailey was left alone with his own thoughts. His feelings for Reagan were difficult to keep to himself, especially when they were always around each other. Especially when he was always around Leila, and Reagan was now around Will.

He couldn't stop it no matter how much he wanted it to go away. At some point, his feelings were bound to come out. He was in love with Reagan, and there was no doubt about that.


	9. Chapter 9

April 6, 1987

4:30 PM

Reagan sat across from Bailey and Leila, who were too caught up in their own mushy relationship to even acknowledge her presence at the booth. Leila pulled away from Bailey's lips for a breath and then looked over at Reagan in surprise.

"Oops! Sorry, Rae! Didn't realize you were still there," Leila's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she looked down at her lap in embarrassment.

"Well, I haven't moved from this seat since we sat down five minutes ago," Reagan groaned and sat back, crossing her arms in slight annoyance.

Bailey chuckled lightly and pulled away from Leila. "Remember how you used to do that to me all the time with your previous boyfriends? And it was me that was the third wheel?," he said with a smug smile.

"How does it feel to have your first girlfriend, Bay?," Reagan tilted her head cockily with a little smirk as she sipped on her coffee.

Bailey groaned and tipped his head back. He knew good and well that she was just pissed off that Will couldn't show up at the diner and save her from being the third wheel, so their exchange of banter was the only way she could get out that anger.

"Hey," he huffed lightly and furrowed his brows at her. "I'll have you know that I've had many girlfriends since September 1982."

"Middle school doesn't count," Reagan rolled her eyes at him and opened up her novel for English class, sipping on a bit more of her beverage as she read. "And any girl in 1982 would date you with that ridiculous perm you had," she snorted and tried to keep from choking on her drink.

Bailey only shook his head with a light scoff, knowing that the slight of hand was one of the reasons he loved her so much. He bit his lip and studied her features intently before looking over at Leila. "So what's on the agenda today, babe?," Bailey said softly and rubbed Leila's thigh gently.

"Well actually, unlike you two, I have an academic reputation to maintain," she chuckled and scooted out of the booth ever so gently. "A big project for my astronomy class that's due in a week and I wanna put the finishing touches on it."

Bailey nodded at her with a sweet smile before pulling her close to him. "Anything...tonight?"

"Hopefully a room," Reagan grumbled lowly with a slight roll of her eyes once more.

"Don't you remember? The party in Glendale that Cheryl Moore is throwing? We have to go!," Leila begged, jumping up and down as if she was were a cheerleader at a football game.

Bailey groaned more than audibly and rested his forehead on the table. "Leila, you couldn't pay me enough money to go Cheryl Moore's house if she was dancing topless on the table to Judas Priest. Forget it," he sighed softly and rubbed his eyes once he lifted his head.

Leila pouted and gave him a soft kiss on his temple. "Fine. I guess...I'll call you later?"

Bailey nodded sadly at her sudden change in tone as she skipped out of the diner to her car. He slumped a little in his seat and stirred his milkshake agonizingly slow as he thought about Cheryl, the girl who rejected him brutally last year. He couldn't imagine facing her again after that embarrassing night, and he was sure going to try and keep it that way for as long as he could manage.

Reagan looked up from her book with furrowed brows. "Hey," she said softly with a little tilt of her head and reached out for his hand to gently stroke it with her thumb. "Is she getting you down again?"

Bailey looked up slowly with a defeated expression and looked her face up and down for a few seconds before nodding.

She sighed deeply at that. "She's a slut anyway. You have Leila now, as dorky as she is," she giggled lightly and called for the waitress.

An elderly woman came to refill Reagan's pitch dark coffee and she smiled before slipping the lady a five dollar bill. She took it happily and left to attend to other customers as Reagan immediately stirred in a small amount of creamer and a few sugar cubes.

The song over the speaker transitioned into a soft piano instrumental. Bailey tried to make out if it was a popular tune for a few seconds until Reagan pointed it out before he could. "Tiny Dancer," she said softly with a little smile.

"W-What? Where?," Bailey lifted his head with a scrunched up face, trying to look around for what she was talking about.

Reagan laughed a little and turned his face to her with a gentle touch of her hand. "No, silly. Tiny Dancer. Elton John released it in 1971," she said with a little nod, happy that she was so cultured in music history and could show off to her brother.

"Oh yeah," Bailey nodded with a little smile. He went back to watching her while she had her nose buried in a book.

Reagan focused for a few more minutes until her chapter was finished and she could finally breath some fresh air for the weekend. She noticed Bailey's eyes on her as she looked up, the slightest blush forming on her cheeks. "What are you staring at?," her eyes darted from side to side as if it would be ridiculous for him to be looking at her.

Bailey smiled softly and shook his head a little. "Nothing. This song just reminds me of you," he sighed shakily, not believing at all that he could say that to his sister without it being weird.

Reagan only smiled big in response and covered her cheeks to hide the redness she could feel coming on. "Well, I would hope so. It's, like, my favorite song. California forever!," she exclaimed and raised her mug. "A toast...to California! And most of all, a toast to Los Angeles!"

Bailey raised his glass as well and clinked it with hers proudly. "To California and most of all, Los Angeles!"

***

Reagan got home and threw her car keys down lazily onto the dining room table. "Anyone home? It's us!"

"Who else would it be?," Dax chuckled as he watched the Lakers game on TV.

She rolled her eyes as she walked into the living room and sat on Dax' chest. "Blood thirsty murderers who want your money and your crazy expensive Air Jordans," Reagan giggled.

Dax just scoffed jokingly and pushed her off. "Where have you two been all day?"

"The diner. And then walking around L.A. to figure out what we're gonna do this weekend. Too bad Bailey doesn't like Cheryl Moore," Reagan shot a glance over at him with a smug smirk.

Bailey had mumbled something about how Cheryl was a slut before walking into the kitchen.

"Go without him," Dax whispered to Reagan as she sat down. "I swear, you two are way too attached at the hip sometimes. Go with your boyfriend," he shrugged and kept his eyes glued to the television.

To Reagan, that wasn't such a bad idea. She and Bailey had always done everything together— especially baseball practice. There wasn't a time she could think of where she hadn't hung out with Bailey, so it was time for a change. She stood up finally after a minute of thinking on it and nodded confidently. "You're right. I'll go call Will."

Reagan skipped past Bailey and into the den to pick up the telephone. She dialed and waited for a few seconds before he picked up.

"East L.A. Auto Shop. This is Will speaking."

"Hey sweetie, it's me."

"Reagan! Hi, babe. I get off at 6:30 if you wanna do a little something tonight," Will said with a little smirk as he wiped his greasy hands with a rag, the phone between his shoulder and ear.

"That's what I was calling about, actually. There's a party in Glendale tonight, but Bailey doesn't wanna go," she pouted a little bit and twisted the phone cord in between her fingers.

"Glendale, huh? Well...if you really want to. I just need to shower and make sure to put on my Rolex," Will chuckled along with his coworkers.

Reagan only rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "Come on, Will. It's gonna be really rad! And I want to bring Leila along so she can let loose for a night."

Will let out an audible sigh and groaned lightly. "Okay, okay. We can go to Glendale tonight. What time should I pick you up?"

"Eight o'clock sharp. See you later, baby!," Reagan giggled and slammed the phone down excitedly. She ran back into the kitchen and confronted Bailey with a small smirk.

"What?," Bailey said bluntly with a blank face.

Reagan shook her head with a cute smile before placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, I dunno. Going to a party in Glendale with my sexy boyfriend."

Bailey groaned in disgust and threw his head back. "Oh, barf!"

"Bailey O'Neill, you have no sense of adventure anymore do you? Seventeen years old and already time for you to retire," Reagan shook her head along with a tsk.

"Shut up," he said as he walked over to the couch to watch the basketball game with Dax.

Reagan sighed and walked over to him in defeat, plopping down on the couch and resting a hand on his shoulder. "Bay, look at me."

He sighed softly and turned his head to face her out of respect.

Reagan tilted her head a little bit and thought about what she wanted to say. She made sure to say the right thing so there wasn't an accidental set off with Bailey. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. "Bay, this isn't about some girl who hurt you...is it?"

He shrugged a little bit before shaking his head lightly. "Not really. But I'd rather not say."

Reagan bit her lip and nodded. "Alright, Bay. I understand." She stood up and walked up the stairs to her bedroom to pick out an outfit for the party.

She immediately put on her favorite Sting album and ran over to her walk in closet to decide. There were way too many options of red and black to choose from that it was almost overwhelming, until she spotted a plum mini dress in the back that she grabbed quickly along with her favorite black heels.

There was a knock at the door which made Reagan jump where she stood. She sighed and threw her party outfit on the bed before walking over to open the door. It was Bailey, a pout formed on his face as he looked at her.

"So...I guess I can go to the party after all," he sighed with a small smile.

Reagan raised a brow quizzically at him and crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? What changed your mind?"

Bailey let out a huff and ran a hand through his own hair. "You were right, I guess. Shouldn't let a random girl keep me from having a good time. And I have Leila, who I think I...l-love," he smiled softly and looked down.

Reagan was taken aback by the word he used to describe Leila for some reason, but she couldn't figure out why. It was such an exciting time for the both of them, especially when she'd been the happiest she had ever been with Will.

"That's great Bailey! I'm so happy for you. Be ready by eight, since Will is coming to pick us up," she said with a little smile and shut the door in his face to get changed.

It was a good half hour that Reagan took to get ready, spending roughly fifteen minutes each on her hair and makeup. She opted for a bold red lipstick and subtle eyes, while her hair was heavily straightened and teased at the crown of her head.

Afterwards, Reagan slipped into her mini dress. The sleeves hung off to display her tan shoulders and prominent collarbones, while the length of the dress hung about four inches below her butt. Naturally, her body was something you'd see from Vogue or even a Mötley Crüe video, with her skinny legs and unbelievably flat stomach.

She gave her hair one last spritz of hairspray before slipping on her black pumps and grabbing the acid wash jacket from her chair, walking out with the natural strut that she possessed. That walk could make any man tremble where he stood, and for an LA girl like her, that was usually the goal.

As Reagan walked down the steps, she was greeted by her mother, Dax, and Bailey. Her outfit earned her a whistle from Dax and a slight fawn from her mother. All Bailey could do was stare at her with wide eyes, finding it even more difficult then to process how beautiful she always made herself to be.

"Well, don't you look great! Reagan you've grown up so quickly for seventeen, but I gotta say...," Grace began.

"I think what mom means is that...you look hot, sis," Dax said bluntly with a shrug.

"Gross!," Reagan chuckled and brushed her hair off of her shoulder before throwing on her jacket.

Bailey was left without a breath and he looked away before he was caught practically drooling. He slipped into his letterman jacket as he waited for Will to pull up in the driveway.

Reagan and Grace walked over to the side to talk about party safety and designated driving, as Bailey was still speechless where he stood.

Dax sighed softly. "I know what you're thinking," he said in a slight whisper.

He turned around in surprise with furrowed brows. "What are you—"

Dax scoffed at him. "I'm not an idiot, Bay. I know you like her," he whispered the last part.

"B-But, no I don't," Bailey said shakily as a few beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Dax tilted his head. "Then why is it that every time you're around her, you can't stop staring at her like she hung the moon?"

He sighed and glanced over at her sadly, knowing they were both in healthy relationships. If their home situation weren't how it was and they weren't legal siblings, Bailey might know how to pursue her confidently. But life hadn't worked out in his favor, and it probably never would.

"I'm in trouble," Bailey mumbled to Dax.

"Life as you know it ceases to exist," he chuckled and patted his shoulder before walking off.

"Got that right," Bailey mumbled sadly to himself and waited by the front door.


	10. Chapter 10

9:15 PM

Before they left for the party, Bailey made a call to an annoyed Leila saying that he'd decided to go to the party after all. He explained that he had gotten over his fear of seeing Cheryl Moore and accepted the fact that he might face possible ridicule from her anyway. After all, it was just a girl.

No point of living in fear of something you can't change, Bailey pondered. 

Will's car honked obnoxiously in the driveway, earning a bright smile from Reagan. "That would be my baby!," she giggled and hid her face in her hands momentarily before strutting out. 

Bailey only rolled his eyes at that and followed behind her at a distance. He climbed in the backseat while Reagan hopped into the passenger seat to give her boyfriend a sloppy kiss. "I missed you," she whispered against his lips with a smirk.

"Well, aren't we a bit horny today?," Will mumbled in the space between them.

"Yeah. I guess it's difficult to be away from you when you know how to use your hands...," Reagan said with a deep red blush forming on her cheeks as she kept her eyes fixed on her lap.

Bailey groaned at the very suggestive innuendos made in the car by his sister and her boyfriend, not really wanting to hear every single detail of their relationship. He was in love with her and didn't need to be reminded that he could never have her.

"Please...enough," Bailey stressed as he rubbed his temple slowly. "I'd say that you two should get a room, but that wouldn't be possible given your libido."

Reagan turned around with furrowed brows. "What's wrong? Jealous?"

He hesitated for a moment as he looked down at the floorboard. "What? No! Grow up, Kinsley," Bailey growled before crossing his arms.

"Take it easy, sour puss. I'm so glad that Leila is coming along so I don't have to listen to your bitching and moaning all night," Reagan hissed slightly before turning back around in her seat.

Bailey only scoffed at that and looked out the window the whole way to Leila's house.

***

Most people couldn't tell, but Los Angeles was a vast and diverse area to live in. It could take someone living in Beverly Hills over thirty minutes to make it to Glendale. Once the kids made it to the house, they couldn't help but groan in a sweet release.

"Thank the gods," Leila seethed as she opened the car door.

"I know right? Glendale is not worth the drive. I mean, at least it isn't Downtown. But still...," Bailey mumbled to himself as he got out behind her. They both stretched their legs and popped their backs as Reagan and Will looked at them in shock.

Bailey furrowed his brows and placed his hands on his hips. "What the fuck are you two looking at?"

Reagan looked back at Will with a smirk before looking at Bailey again. "So you can handle Coach Rosen's warm up drills, but you can't handle a half hour car ride to Glendale?," Reagan crossed her arms in amusement.

"W-well...," Bailey scratched his temple lightly before scoffing.

"Exactly," Reagan chuckled. "I'll be sure to tell Coach that you wanna do extra laps."

Bailey rolled his eyes and put his hand gently on Leila's lower back, leading her up to the entrance of the house. It wasn't exactly a Beverly Hills mansion, but you could tell somebody well off had resided there. He shakily raised his hand to knock on the large wooden doors.

It didn't take but ten seconds before a girl with sizable breasts and teased, brunette hair to answer the door. An immediate sneer grew on her face as she saw Bailey. "Mr. O'Neill, how good of you to-"

She was cut off by his hand flying up to stop her. "Yeah yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leila. Leila, you know Cheryl Moore."

"Hi," she smiled brightly at Cheryl, extending her hand out to shake it. She only looked down at it with a snide expression and rolled her eyes.

"Bailey, I had no idea you liked dating freshmen," Cheryl laughed obnoxiously and stepped to the side to let them both come in. Leila only glared at that and walked in with Bailey holding her hand tightly.

Reagan and Will were smiling and laughing with each other as they made it up to the porch, stopping to greet the host. "Hey Cheryl," Reagan said politely with a small smile. 

"Reagan, oh my gosh! How are you? When did your brother become such a hunk?," Cheryl asked her with wide eyes. There was an obvious reason behind that.

"Um, Cheryl...he's my brother," Reagan narrowed her eyes a little bit and looked over at Will awkwardly, who clearly didn't like the mention of their names together in that way. 

"Soooo? He's, like, not your blood brother. You'll screw anything else that moves anyway," she shrugged like it was obvious and walked back inside. Reagan was left in shock at the statement that she made before she took Will's hand, leading him inside.

"That was awful, I'm sorry," Will muttered to her sadly as they walked through a small crowd.

"No, no. She's sort of right. I don't have the most squeaky clean past," she sighed heavily and walked up to the makeshift bar, grabbing a blue plastic cup. She made herself at home by pouring a big cup of Johnnie Walker and smiling. "I'm so happy," she giggled cutely and took a big gulp of the whiskey before pulling Will along to go and socialize with the Glendale kids.

As the hour passed, the party was pretty uneventful for the most part. The music was lower and the majority of kids were just standing around, sipping at whatever weak drink was in their cup. Usually from Reagan and Bailey's experience, the best party to attend was always in East LA. There was a better selection of alcohol and people danced a bit more promiscuous without a care in the world of who was watching.

A sudden knock on the door was heard and as Cheryl opened it, a wave of football players from Glendale High School rushed in. In their hands, some of them carried an assortment of alcohol--ranging from cheap to ridiculously expensive. One guy even brought in a few tapes with the likes of a few popular rock bands from the 1980's. Reagan spotted that and immediately grinned excitedly.

"What is it?," Will mumbled into her ear with a smirk.

Reagan just bit her lip to hide a growing smile. "We're gonna party like it's 1986!," she said a bit loudly with a grin and raised her blue cup in the air. The kids within distance cheered in response and followed her movements. 

It wasn't long before a tape was popped into the cassette player and the music blared through the over sized speakers. It was the song "You Give Love a Bad Name", a tune all too familiar to Reagan in the summer of 1986. The song was an anthem to her and her guy friends, being the only soon-to-be junior girl at Beverly Hills High to win at beer pong and tequila shots. 

Reagan grabbed Will's hand and pulled him out to an open area on the floor, knocking her drink back before she began to sway her hips. His hands found her ass and immediately pulled her closer, their fronts completely touching as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Do you have the moves?," she smirked as she ground her hips against Will's.

He bit his lip and looked her up and down, somewhat aroused by how she was moving on him. "I'm Latino. I know a thing or two about 'moves'," he chuckled and spun her around, just barely touching her fingertips.

Reagan smirked and looked into his eyes in an endearing way, putting her hands on the back of his neck as their bodies moved with electricity. Will pushed his front against hers as the music sped up some more. "Shot through the heart and you're to blame! You give a love a bad name!," she sang along loudly along with the rest of the drunken kids.

Bailey wasn't too far away as he nonchalantly watched Reagan's slender body moving back and forth, wishing it was him that she was grinding on instead of Will Thompson. He sighed and shook his body awkwardly with Leila, who looked like she had a few years of experience as she practically annihilated anyone else's moves on the dance floor. Reagan caught a glance of Bailey and smiled drunkenly at him before her eyes shifted over to Cheryl. She'd been laughing at him and mocking how uncoordinated he was, and Reagan now understood why Bailey didn't want to come to the party.

He was insecure about a lot of things, but being nearly an adult and raised by Jack O'Neill himself, Bailey had to keep those insecurities from surfacing. The question was, how long could he hold back?

Reagan took a sip of her drink and stopped her movements. "I'll be right back," she slurred slightly, feeling herself getting a slight buzz.

"Where are you going?," Will furrowed his brows at her.

"To take care of business," she grumbled as she made her way over to Cheryl and her friends. She didn't plan what she would say to her, given that Cheryl Moore was an intimidating person, so the challenge was a bit difficult to achieve. Luckily the liquor gave her a confidence boost.

Reagan finally stopped in front of Cheryl. She was a tall, beautiful girl, but had the aura of pure torment about her. "May I help you, Reagan?," Cheryl chuckled weakly along with her friends, it being painfully that all of them had gone under the knife before the age of fifteen.

"Y-yes," Reagan sighed shakily. "I want you to leave Bailey alone."

"I don't think I'm hurting Bailey. Am I, girls?," Cheryl looked around for the approval of her clique and they quickly shook their heads in unison. "But, since you're such a nosy little bitch, we were in fact laughing at the seizure he's been having for the past three songs," she said quite matter-of-factly before cackling.

"He can't help it," Reagan growled quietly and sipped more of the half empty Johnnie Walker.

"What is your damage, Kinsley? Are you in love with him?," Cheryl giggled loudly and everyone stopped to stare at the two girls.

Reagan looked away for a moment over at Bailey, who's eyes went wide as he got a feeling they were talking about him. Her brows furrowed angrily before looking to Cheryl, her cocky and evil grin fixated on Reagan. "Well?"

She gulped lightly before shaking her head. "No. Definitely not," she mumbled quietly.

"Oh yeah? Prove it," Cheryl smirked and waved Bailey over. He came all too quickly and stood next to Reagan, his heart racing as he didn't know what was about to happen. "Kiss him," she smirked evilly.

"On the lips? No way," Reagan rolled her eyes and backed away a step.

"You are so chicken. Clearly you wouldn't have an issue with it if you were so secure in your relationship," Cheryl sneered.

Reagan looked over at Bailey and her heart raced nervously. Cheryl's demeanor reminded her so much of Jack's, in which she would do whatever he told her to do for him sexually. It had that same air of ownership, and it was nerve wracking that she might never escape it outside of her home.

"Let's just...get it over with. People are watching us," Bailey sighed as he turned to face her. He had always wanted to kiss Reagan for the longest time, but didn't think that this was the way it would happen. Or if it would ever happen.

Reagan nodded and turned to him as well, her cheeks pink. She looked over at a distraught Leila and Will, who were clearly not interested in seeing their partners in this situation. She looked back at Bailey with a reassuring smile, her face leaning in slowly to brush just slightly against his lips.

Bailey's eyes fluttered shut and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He totally forgot that other people were there as he focused on Reagan's mouth, the skin as soft as a rose petal and the taste of her strawberry lip balm over her red lips completely enchanting his senses. They locked lips for a total of about ten seconds before pulling away nonchalantly and wiping their mouths clean of each other's saliva. "See? Nothing," Reagan shrugged and walked away to join Will again. 

Cheryl looked over at her friends and whispered something about her being a liar, which Bailey had heard but didn't pay much attention to that little insult. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went back to Leila, her arms crossed in complete disappointment. "What the fuck was that, Bailey?"

"What?," he groaned lightly and threw his head back.

"You just kissed Reagan, asshole," she growled lowly as she punched his arm.

"What the fuck, Leila. It was a dare. Clearly it didn't mean anything!," Bailey rolled his eyes.

Her face dropped completely and gave him a pout. "Promise?"

"Yes, baby," he chuckled and pulled her in for a small peck on her forehead. "You know I love you."

"Well...I love you too," she said bluntly, hearing the slight disdain in her tone that would quickly fade. In a small way, Leila was a poor soul. Yes, she did consider herself lucky enough to call Bailey her boyfriend, but she was completely oblivious to not only the family's situation and her boyfriend's new infatuation. It was only a matter of time before the truth would crush her spirit. 

Meanwhile, Reagan sipped on her drink and watched as everyone danced, avoiding making eye contact with Will. "So I guess we aren't discussing this?," Will raised a brow and kept a hard stare on her.

She shrugged as she felt herself getting more drunk every half hour that they were there. It came as a surprise to her when a hand tightly gripped her bicep, her eyes darting over to Will. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Put the alcohol down for once," he whispered through a growl, his grip only getting tighter.

"Will, stop. You're hurting me," Reagan whined as the pain made her nearly fall over in front of him as his hand was still connected to her arm.

Bailey spotted the clear assault from far away and walked over to them cautiously to investigate. "What's...going on?"

"Nothing, dude. Keep it moving," Will rolled his eyes and lightly pushed Bailey with his free hand.

He scowled at him and felt his anger build up inside at the sight of his sister being hurt, as it always had when Jack had shown his evil side in private. "That's my sister, asshat. Let. Go."

Will sighed heavily at Bailey's now sudden vexation. "Fine," he shrugged and immediately let go of her, shoving her into Bailey's chest. "I'll see you later, Reagan. When you aren't completely wasted out of your mind?" Will grabbed his keys and scoffed before walking out.

They were both left standing there, not sure how to react to what had just happened in the span of a few minutes. "Did we just break up?"

"I don't think so," Bailey shook his head with wide eyes before helping her stand up straight. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded with a drunken smile and fixed her hair slightly. "Thanks to you...hero," Reagan giggled as she poked Bailey's nose lightly. Afterwards she leaned in next to his ear.

"What?," Bailey chuckled and put a hand lightly on her upper back to keep her steady.

"You're a good kisser," she whispered before giggling and skipping off, knowing she probably wouldn't remember that little statement the next morning.

Bailey was left standing there, his eyes wide in shock as the other kids danced without a care in the world. The night went way better than he'd expected, but there was now another problem to replace all the others. He had to keep the lie of the current relationship alive. People would easily know his dark family secret. They would humiliate him and his sister, and he could never let it come to light for the sake of their family's elite reputation.


	11. Chapter 11

April 8, 1987

11:30 AM

A whole day and a half had gone by since the party in Glendale, and Reagan was ready to forget the whole evening ever happened. Kissing her stepbrother and being roughly handled by her own boyfriend was something that didn't quite escape her, no matter how hard she tried.

Reagan hadn't spoken a word to Will since he abruptly left the party and probably never wanted to again, based on how hard he grabbed her. She didn't have to kiss Bailey, and she knew that. She was a strong girl that didn't normally give into peer pressure, but the strong flashbacks of Jack hurting her and forcing her to do certain things were always clouded her thoughts. It was no wonder she couldn't make the right decision.

Sunday morning had been a perfect morning for Reagan and Dax to have some much needed bonding time and for Reagan to get her mind off of the party. It helped that they both loved baseball and wanted to visit the batting cages in Brentwood as much as they could. The age gap wasn't too far apart, but Dax was an adult now while Reagan still had another year of high school before she was off to bigger and better things.

The baseballs flew at Dax at least fifty-five miles per hour, a record speed for his college level game. Reagan watched in amazement at him as he swung at them easily. "Dax, how do you do that so smoothly?," she smirked. 

Once the machine had run out of balls, he pulled off his helmet and turned to her. "Easy. My hips."

"Hips?," she mouthed quietly to herself.

Dax waved his hand over in an inviting manner to come over to him. She sighed and walked into the cage, quickly standing where he told her to. Reagan took the bat from him and held it in her normal position as Dax put his large hands on her hips behind her. "Alright. Show me how you normally bat."

Reagan took a soft breath before swinging the bat with not as much force as her brother did. "Sorry, you just make me a little nervous," she sighed and lowered her bat.

"No, it's okay! Your technique is a little bit weak, but other than that, you're doing fine," he chuckled. "Your feet are parallel, but your hips aren't swinging like they should. Especially that front hip," he explained. "I'm going to keep my hands there, and my hope is that this time, they'll move with your hips. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she blushed in embarrassment before getting into position as she did before, taking a deeper breath this time and focusing her mind on the technique.

Reagan kept her hands on the bat above her shoulder before pushing off with her leg and letting her hips lead. This time, it was nearly flawless.

"Holy shit, that was amazing!," Dax chuckled.

"Really?," Reagan's eyes lit up and immediately dropped the bat to face him. "Maybe with a little more practice, I can bat for the varsity team next year," she smiled brightly.

"I think you have amazing potential, Rae," he smirked and put his hands on her hips lightly. "You can do anything you want."

"Yeah?," Reagan giggled cutely and stood up on her tip toes to hug him. "So can you," she whispered with a small smile before backing away to pick up all of their gear.

"I dunno about you, but brunch sounds good right about now," he sighed as they walked out to his Bentley. Once they'd thrown all of the equipment into the trunk, Reagan and Dax made their way back to the mansion.

There was a silence in the air before Reagan broke it with a random but valid question. "Dax, I gotta ask...do you know what you wanna do?"

"What do you mean?," he furrowed his brows as he kept his eyes strictly on the road.

"I just mean, well...your career path. You seem like you'd be a good baseball coach, and you got into a really good school and—"

"Yeah. It's amazing what Dad's money can buy you," he chuckled weakly. "I'm just the dummy son of a rich lawyer."

"Dax Kinsley, you aren't dumb. You're a bright young man! And I'd never lie," she smiled sweetly and took his free hand to lace her fingers with his. "You're the best big brother and I've had the best years of my life growing up with you."

He sighed a little bit at that and shook his head with a smile. "Rae, you're too good to me even though I'm a big fuck up. I guess...I just...I have no clue what I want to be. I'm so uninspired. I wish Dad was here to guide me."

"Charlie?," Reagan tilted her head.

"I miss him every day," he took a deep breath.

"I do too. But in my experience, the best thing to do is wait for a sign. It'll come to you in any form," Reagan grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "You'll find your path."

As she spoke her words of wisdom to her older brother, they pulled into the driveway. Reagan could tell the Grace and the rest of the family was setting up for Sunday brunch, otherwise Grace would be tending to the rose bushes in her free time as always. 

The two siblings made their way inside and the smell of turkey bacon and eggs caught their noses, which made Reagan the happiest she'd ever been at home in a long time.

"Ma, we're home!," Reagan shouted.

"In here, honey!," Grace said brightly and leaned over to wave them into the kitchen. There, sitting at the kitchen table, was Jack, Bailey, and a familiar head of raven black hair.

"Will?," Reagan gulped with furrowed brows.

"Oh yeah. He dropped by about fifteen minutes ago to see you," Grace explained warmly.

"Hi, Reagan," Will turned in his seat and faced her with an angelic smile. "I came to apologize about...the other night."

"Yeah?," she mumbled shakily and looked down at the glossy wood flooring, trying to avoid the idea of wanting to forgive him.

Bailey looked between them and swallowed thickly, praying that she wouldn't take him back. Sure, Bailey wanted her all to himself. But the most important thing to him was her safety. He would do anything to make sure that it stayed that way.

Reagan let out a soft sigh and waved him over as she walked to the den. Will quickly complied and stood up to follow her, as the rest of her family took their places at the table. She quickly shut the door and took her seat on the sectional sofa. 

"What?," she asked bluntly, cocking an eyebrow as she looked at him.

"I know what I did at the party was wrong. It was wrong of me to be jealous of you and...Bailey," Will widened his eyes at that before trying to hold in a chuckle.

"You're such a moron. Why would I even have a thing with Bailey?," Reagan laughed weakly at that before gaining total composure.

"I...I dunno. I guess I'm just a jealous guy who feels so strongly for you. And I just lost it. I'm sorry," he sighed sadly and looked down at his lap.

For all of the guys that Reagan had dated, Will Thompson had to have been the only one that would make a sincere apology like this. Most of them would just want to have makeup sex with her or buy her something from one of the shops on Rodeo Drive, but Will was different. He didn't grow up the same way she had or any of the other rich guys he went to school with, so he only had his charm and manners to rely on. 

Reagan stood up and paced the floor for a few seconds before looking up at him. "Fine. I...forgive you. My arm that you bruised doesn't, but I do," she walked over to peck his lips.

Will smiled softly at that and took her hands. "Ready to go eat?"

"Absolutely," she mumbled happily and walked out to join her family at the table. The Kinsley-O'Neill clan had their fair share of shameful moments, but there was always brunch on Sunday. In their home, that's how you knew you'd lived to see another week.


End file.
